Two Wolves
by the-voiceless
Summary: A devastated and heartbroken Valerie has accepted her fathers offer. Outsiders, they run away to the city. With a new home and new identities, father and daughter must do what they must to survive with their deadly secret. Father Solomon, alive and well, will hunt them for holy justice and the he'll never stop. Adventure await Cesaire and Valerie in ways they'd never imagine.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

"Papa, I see them."

"Just keep running, baby, we can outrun them."

The darkness become pitch black while the cold wind brushed against her skin like teeth. Valerie squeezed the neck of her red hood tighter under her chin. Her other hand clasped on her father's. No torch. No lantern. Just complete black. She turned her head around.

"They're coming closer."

"Just keep running, baby, we're almost there."

An aching sore spread across her arm as her father ushered her forward, running faster. Hand in hand, daughter and father ran across the snow at full speed. Her throat burned and she wanted to stop but the villagers behind them furthered the chase. Turning her head she could see a great big yellow glow pierce through the darkness of the night. Burning brighter and bigger than their torches. The angry villagers were burning grandmother's house down!

"Papa!"

"Don't look back! Keep running!"

Her feet couldn't keep up! Papa was much stronger and faster than her. His wolf blood overpowering. Before she could collapse in exhaustion, Papa stopped, skidding across the snow and turning around. The torch lights, like fireflies, within the woods reflected in his eyes. She looked up at him. Why was he stopping? Growling, his eyes dilated. His brown eyes to big yellow eyes. At last she could hear what he was hearing with his wolf ears. Horses. More than one! Thundering their hooves towards them. Papa, pulled her behind his back, kneeled down readying to spring forward with his teeth barred.

"Papa?"

"Get behind me, baby," he growled in his human/wolf voice.

With wide blue eyes Valerie watched his body transform from his human robes to his wolf robes. Skin to fur in a blink of an eye. The horses were nearing. Their hooves were louder. With two firm paws, Cesaire hunched his head up high, puffing his furry chest exhibiting his power and strength. A wolf protecting its only pup. From the mist of the snow, the horses appeared with their owners holding torches and swords. It's leader, Father Solomon, on his white stallion carrying a silver spear.

Silver!

"Papa! The silver!" Valerie cried.

**_Run, baby, run! Don't argue with me_**!

"But Papa—"

**_Run! I will find you. Go now before they see you_! **_**They're not taking my only child**!_

Quickly panting in her nose and out her mouth, Valerie turned and ran into the cast of the blackness. Quivering tears ran down her pale cheeks as her legs carried her as far as they could! The burning returned to her throat! Little snowflakes burned her skin like ash. She could hear everything from behind. The neigh of slaughtered horses! Father Solomon's war cries! The fearful cries of the villagers that were once her neighbors. Growling and barking and snapping of powerful wolf jaws! Just keeping running! Keep running! Her papa roared, louder than a lion, echoing across the trees.

Just please come back Papa! Valerie grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it higher, running faster than she did before! The blood red moon upon the clouds over her head beamed the only light she could use to cross the snowy woods. The torch lights were far behind her! The snow crunched beneath her feet. As she ran, she ran away from the only home she ever knew. The only family she ever had. From the friends she had played with growing up. Everything she knew was gone. From Henry whom she rejected and ignored. From Peter who left her for Prudence. The only person she had was her Papa, the infamous Big Bad Wolf that children feared after sunset.

The only thing that frightened her was the silence. Once more she turned her head. She had to stop! She had to make sure he was ok! More darkness and no torchlights. The blood red moon gleamed from the clouds, luminous and beautiful.

Slowly, her legs stopped running. Coming to a slow stop, she turned back.

Fat snowflakes floated.

There was no sound.

No horses.

No crickets.

Nothing.

Valerie gulped.

"Papa?"

Bursting like a crow from black ashes, Papa came galloping through the snow at full speed! His ebony black fur bounced around his neck. Powerful paws propelling him forward and faster! He skidded to a quick halt, perked his ears and lowered his entire body. Bending his limbs down, he snorted. Valerie placed a hand on his large snout and climbed on his back. She tried to settle down on his shoulders. Her legs bent, gripping him between her knees, trying to secure herself tightly. He was twice the size of a horse! She tightened her cloak and patted his neck, gripping onto his fur like reins. With another snort, he began to run.

Father and daughter, runaways, outcasts fled under the eye of the blood moon. Never to return!

For hours they continued this.

Deeper and deeper they delved into the dark woods, forbidden to anyone who did not want to die from a painful death. These haunted woods protected its inhuman inhabitants from people like Father Solomon and the villagers, serving as a refugee zone. This land was cursed. But to Valerie and her father, it was sanctuary. It was home. Home to the cursed, the damned, and the blessed.

Cesaire huffed and puffed through his open mouth! His snout tightening and untightening, smelling and snorting the cold air! His big yellow eyes rotated back and forth, trying to detect any danger. His big triangular ears flat against his wolf head.

On his back, his daughter, his only daughter, held on tightly using his thick wolf mane as a shield against the snow flying against his face. The snow storm would cover their tracks. Cesaire knew that their destination was at least a week's travel. The city would provide an excellent cover. He needed to give his little girl a home. His yellow eyes glanced to the east. The sun was rising.

No! No! No! Soon he would be human. He and his daughter had no horse. No carriage. No shelter. Nowhere to claim sanctuary! The morning skies glowed their usual pink dawn. Frantic, he turned his head in every direction. His galloping paws coiled and pounced off the ground, over a racing river, hitting the bank on the other side. His snout pointed in the air smelling. Chickadees and thrushes chirped excitedly, flying in flocks from trees.

Cesaire circled and circled and circled pointing his snout to the sky. He could feel his daughter squirm on his back, cold and shivering from the late night escape. She need warmth. A fire. Something to comfort her.

Wait.

He sniffed.

Unsure, he sniffed, snorted and barked!

His powerful hind legs pounced in a new direction. His limbs ran faster and faster until the scent of bears became clear. A bear with matted fur, mud, dirt, pine sap mixed together. Just as Cesaire expected, it was an uninhabited bear cave. It wasn't worthy for wolves. But as a father he was desperate. Entering the bear cave, he sniffed, looking for signs of danger or threat. Carefully lowering his entire body to ground level, his daughters' tiny body slid to the ground gently. His yellow eyes looked at the blood dripping off her fingers. The crimson color stained her arms and hands. It was the blood of the horses and villagers that covered his fur. His large snout nuzzled her shoulder, poking her body for signs of consciousness.

She was alive.

Just sleeping.

**_Baby girl, baby girl_**

The Big Bad Wolf raised his head proudly. He shook his thick mane and sat on his legs. The sun was here. Time was up. Closing his eyes, Cesaire allowed the warmth of the sun to touch his body and reclaim his human robes. The ebony fur retreated back into his skin leaving him covered in slick sweat. As usual, he pinched the human flesh from his teeth and brushed the hair on his head. A powerful energy flooded from his body leaving him shaking and gasping. His knees buckled. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, opening his mouth and breathing through human lungs.

He felt exhausted. But happy.

His only child, Valerie, accepted his offer. Tonight was the last night of the Blood Moon. They ran away from home. Within a week, they'll be back in the city.

To richer hunting grounds.

This would the most brutal winter they'd ever remember.

But at least he had his baby girl with him.

That's all that mattered.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

There were so many people.

The tight space of the Trade Market provided no privacy and no room to scoot past goats, pigs, hens, and geese. Over 1 hundred customers and market vendors were discussing, agreeing, disagreeing, arguing, negotiating and dealing. People rushing and scurrying here and there! Carrying balls of yarn, hauling bundles of wheat, rolling carts filled with milk glasses, transporting exotic foreign rugs, and swinging water pots. Each and every one of them, like a colorful kaleidoscope of bees buzzing and fussing! Business and Pleasure coursing through the veins of their new home like water through rocks. Valerie and Cesaire were pushed and shoved back and forth in this hive of people. Cesaire, holding her hand, guided their way through the sea of merchants.

"Papa where are we going!?" she asked, forced to raise her voice amongst the hundreds of other voices.

"To the Inn!" his voice shouted.

"An Inn?"

"I know a friend who owes me a favor!"

As her father guided her down the alley, Valerie smiled at everything she set her sights on. The city was glorious! Everything was so beautiful and alive with colors and assortments. The colorful paper kites hanging from a string for all to see! Baskets and baskets of beautiful scarves displayed in neat tucked rows displayed for all the young women to desire. The smell of fresh baked bread coming from somewhere excited her. On the opposite wall were cages and cages of beautiful exotic birds with little leather masks covering their eyes. Farmers were carrying their livestock across their shoulders. Sheep and pigs whined and squealed, kicking and crying. Valerie could also smell the scent of rotting meat readying to be cooked by the butcher. Shop after shop, Valerie became even more excited than she was.

"Come on," her father gently ushered. "Listen to me… You must forget your old life. We're in the city now. That means that things are going to change."

"Like what?"

"Everything. Our past. Our names. Where we come from."

Valerie nodded," Then… who am I?"

Cesaire gently pulled her from the daylight and hid them both beneath a cobblestone archway of an apartment building. From his shirt pocket he discreetly pulled out two bundles of paper. Citizen Papers. He pulled a string, unfolding them and giving one to her. No one was watching them. Valerie opened it to find a new name, an official Seal stamp, and an artificial signature from the City Governor. Gulping, she rolled her new name around in her mouth. Her fingers rolled the Certificates into a scroll and tucked it into her bodice.

"Papa, do we have to use new names?" she frowned, feeling she had lost her identity too easily. Her Papa and her name was all she had left. "You-You told me that Mama named me when I was born…"

His thumb caressed her bottom lip," I know, my sweet. I know. But Father Solomon is still alive. He's out there somewhere. And if he _hears_ our names- then he'll hunt us down until we're both dead. And I can't let that happen. You're my only child. My one and only legacy. Until then, your name will be Charlotte."

He showed her his certificate," My name will be Carlisle. We moved here from the South country. Your mother died from childbirth and you're an only child. You've never had a sister. You were born on the 3rd of the 8th month 19 years ago."

Valerie lowered her eyes to his paper.

Their identities were forever changed.

She was no longer Valerie. She was Charlotte, the daughter of a factory worker.

"Okay, Papa…" she smiled, holding his hand again.

He smiled," That's my good girl."

Once more they delved into the market to find their new apartment home.

A few more turns and they found their destination. A rickety old wooden building supported with lumbar and black cobblestone. Stepping upon the entryway, her father knocked. The little window slid open. Two brown eyes revealed themselves looking at her and him. It slid shut and the owner unlatched the wooden panel swinging the door open. Her father gently pushed her forward into a room. A simple room connected to the room of an office with brazen keys hanging on the wall in little rows. On the other side of the room were small apartment mail boxes, stuffed with scrolls, papers, and little packages. The simple luxuries of Inn were open and welcoming to the middle class and only the middle class. A cleric man sat behind the desk. He was an elderly old man with white hair in the shape of a horseshoe upon his bald head.

His long stoic face looked up," Aww, can…I…help…you?"

"Yes, I'm here to claim my room. A month ago I made a reservation."

"Aww, I…don't…recall…ordering a block."

Valerie looked up to her father. He took out a piece of paper, sliding across the table. He squeezed her shoulder.

"I claimed a room here. For me and my daughter. We talked before. You must remember."

The old man's hand slid into his dirty shirt pocket, taking out his spectacles. His small raisin eyes became big wide blue eyes as he shifted the lens on his pointed nose, magnifying his vision. He held the paper an inch away from his face.

He narrowed his eyes and nodded.

"Aww…" he said.

Carefully he slid his spectacles back in his shirt pocket. On shaky legs he lifted himself from his stool chair. Taking his wooden cane in hand he wobbled to the hanging brazen keys. With his pointed nose he slowly scanned across looking for the right key. Huffing, he stretched his trembling hand as high as he could. Taking a key from its place. Panting, the old man hobbled back to his stool seat and fell, exhausted, on his stool chair.

"Aww… this….is…the…one."

Cesaire pocketed the key and his papers.

"Thank you," he nodded politely taking his daughter's hand and heading upstairs. Valerie followed him up the steps, reaching floor 1, reaching floor 2, reaching floor 3, reaching the 4th floor until they came to the 6th floor. He father lead her down the hall, creaking under their every step, until they came to a small door at the end. With his key he unlatched the lock stepping in and shutting the door.

"Stay here," he said.

In 3 long strides he crossed the length of the room lighting every candle. An orange glow spread giving light to their new home.

It small and discreet and all the windows were covered with sheets.

"Papa?" she stepped forward looking at the arrangements. "Is this where we'll live?"

"Yes. When I first came to the city I met a gambler, Patrick, who turned me to the Inn. He told me this was the best place to give shelter to those who…are like us. When I would bring you and your sister here with me, I already had everything we needed here. I have food, coats, clothes, blankets, candles and water buckets."

He smiled at her. Valerie looked at everything. She admired the room's small and comfortable atmosphere providing a seat to sit on, a dish to wash in, a window to look out, and two separate rooms to sleep in. No more and no less. Her room consisted of one chair, one bed, one window and rodent free.

"It's perfect," she smiled.

He sighed, happy to hear his daughter content and safe. Stepping forward he unwrapped her red cloak from her shoulders and gave her a maiden's laced hair bonnet. His fingers tied the lace. She helped him fidget, perfecting it and tucking her hair inside. He, too, buttoned his shirt and kicked off the mud from his boots.

"Come, we don't have a lot of time. We've successfully escaped the village and we're in the city. We have new names and its best we put them to use. Now we have to do something with more importance."

"What's that?"

"Getting work. We have to support ourselves somehow, honey."

Cesaire brushed back his hair and shrugged on his coat, taking his papers and his daughters hand out the door. Rushing out from the Inn they marched down the alley, shoving past vendors and merchants and customers. Instinctive, Cesaire hid his face from the City Marshalls marching in a soldier line amongst the civilians, proudly turning their heads showing their authority. He pulled her facing her to him pointing at a bakery shop.

"Here, go there and ask for Madame Alice. She'll teach you everything you need to know there. I will return at the end of the day to see you," he kissed her forehead.

Nervous now, Valerie straightens up and descends the steps, one by one. The delicious aroma of hot fresh bed with butter makes her belly grumble as she feels her mouth salivate in hunger. Curiosity fights with premonition and she feels the goosebumps on her slim bare arms, from being separated from her father. Her Papa disappeared into the market. It was a pleasant entry. It was an old wood storefront with carved trim and bay windows. She opens the shop door, a bell rings, and a red head walks out wearing a yellow scarf around her head. Her fiery red locks are like rope curling against the grace of her neck.

Valerie approaches, "Good afternoon. I'm here for… Madame Alice."

She nods returning to the back.

The heat inside is nearly making her wish there more windows to open. Fixing her eyes on a large brick oven to keep her anxiousness under control, she edges forward. The heavenly smell of bread reminds her of home. Daggorhorn. Mother and Lucy. Grandmother's house. _All sorrows are less with bread_. From behind the doors, a heavy woman walks with her hands swinging side to side. Her hair is caramel colored tied into a heavy bun with strands hanging down the sides of her face. Her large body shaped by her tight black bodice giving her a large and swelling girth. The jewels on her fingers look heavy and unpolished. The woman stops and stands with a welcoming grace. Valerie's courage swells.

"Madame Alice?" she asked.

"Aye…?"

"My father C-C-Carlisle sends me."

She is overwhelmed by a sense of being in her presence. Madame nods her head, completely understanding. Her plump hand takes hers and she leads her to the back, shoving past table tops, her loud footsteps announcing her presence. They've entered the kitchen. Valerie feels the heat more than ever. At one table she sees the girl she met earlier palming the dough with both hands using all her weight to squish and spread the powdery white dough. Her fiery red hair sticking to her forehead in strands.

"A'wright, Charlotte, this here is what we call a bakery shop. This where we press the dough, mix the dough, press the dough, roll the dough and put all that in the oven, hear me?" Madame Alice walks to the pantry.

Inside are sacks of flour, wheat, and barley. There are jars of golden honey and baskets of strawberries and blackberries.

"This is where we keep everything, hear me? W'you'll be doing is washing those dishes, fetchin' water, and making dough and do all o'that without making a FUSS. Those are my w'rules. You play the house w'rules or you don't play at all. No FUSS, no PAY, hear me?"

Valerie nods, confirming.

"Put up yer hands. Now here! Here!" she gives her a mop and a spoon. "You start today."

Madame sharply nods her chin.

She marches away, swinging her arms.

Chewing the inside of her lip, Valerie isn't sure what to do with a spoon and a mop. Madame Alice didn't seem to be a woman who tolerated insolence and disobedience, especially with new employees. There are several sheets of heavy dough strewn across the table, each covered with line after line of flour. The room is not silent. The fire within the oven roars. She can hear the crackling of the logs inside. The girl with the red hair clasps the metal latch and swings it open. An intense glow of orange shines on her skin and face! Her hand covers her face as she throws 3 more logs in. Sparks fly. Quickly, using a hand cloth, she slams the oven latch shut! Beads of sweat come running down.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

A few miles down to the east a thin man in a pale cloak stands alone under a wooden archway of highly polished wood. Cesaire, cloaked with his hood, walks towards him. His palms are sweaty, his mouth is dry and he's aware of every nerve, every muscle in his body, even the pulse in the veins at his temples. But he's not the one who should be afraid.

"Patrick."

"Carlisle. Didn't expect to see you so soon," the man smiled weakly glancing down at Cesaire's right hand. Burned by something.

"I'm a man of my word," the wolf replied.

"I see."

Cesaire rehearsed this.

From his pocket he pulls out a coin bag. Tossing it to him. Patrick unbinds the leather string and counts the coins. Satisfied, Patrick slipped him a leather packet.

"No one will notice?"

"Not unless the Governor, himself, checks the papers himself then no. No one will notice."

Cesaire smirked," So that means I don't have to... _return_ and… get back my money's worth."

There was a double meaning in his sentence.

Patrick gulped.

Cesaire slips the packet in his left cloak pocket. The two middle class citizens knowingly look at each other, both standing to the west and looked at the busy streets of the city. Wheel carts, sheep and pigs trafficking in heavy groups and loads back and forth on the streets. Patrick desperately wanted to raise his eyes and take a better look, but he forces himself to keep his head down and his face hidden, as Cesaire instructed him a month ago.

"This business transaction is over."

"Business was a pleasure."

"Pleasure to do business…"

Both smiled at eachother.

Exiting the shadows, Patrick covered his blonde head with his hood and he glanced to the ground.

"_Good luck_, Cesaire, keep you and your daughter safe," he whispered.

No handshake.

No goodbyes.

It was done.

Both men walked in opposite directions.

Their deal was done.

Cesaire continued to walk until he reached the iron doors of the textile factory. The distance from the factory and to his house was not far. Nearly a 2 mile walk, 1 mile run, and 60 seconds for a werewolf to run. If his daughter were ever in danger he would have the advantage to come running and protect her if the time came. Cesaire shrugged off his coat. He shook hands with Mr. Mavis, a man he already know, and began to work. With his leather gloves he began to work on the textile mills. Other factory workers wore the same dress code as he. All of them were zebras working under one roof and the work would be tedious. 12 hours per day and 6 days a week but the wages tripled the wages of a wood cutter. Within a couple of months, he and daughter would have enough to live somewhere near the ocean and forget about everything.

He just had to teach her the wolf ways first.

**Later that Evening**:

"I'm happy you didn't _sell_ me to the Lazars, Papa…"

Daughter and father sat across from each other at their table. Two bowls with beef, corn, and carrots mixed into a swirl of grey soup. Two slices of stale bread on each plate. Cesaire looked from his plate, dropping his fork, and looking at his daughters face. It reminded him too much of Suzette. Her sweet blue eyes held love and honesty and above all loyalty. She had never done any wrong and she would never do anything to hurt him. He moved his shoulders sitting more straight, emotionally moved by her statement.

"I'm _happy_, too, Valerie…" he smiled, humbled and proud.

She scooped a carrot from her bowl, shifting her elbows and shuffling her feet.

"At the bakery, it's 2 shillings a day for 6 days a week. It's 11 hours a day."

"That's certainly nothing to mope about."

"It's better than Daggorhorn that's for certain. And what's it like at the factory, Papa?"

"It's 4 shillings a day. I have to work 12 hours per day and 6 days a week. The pay is better than being a wood cutter. But the place is a mess. Worse than a pig's stock."

They chuckled.

The iron stove against the wall moaned its fiery breath, moaning and licking the wood logs inside. As the sun set behind the city buildings, the alley had become quiet. The market began to quiet. A string of lanterns crisscrossed over the cobblestone street, connecting wall to wall to wall with beautiful lights. Everyone began to retire inside. The taverns were the noisiest of the buildings. City marshals began patrolling for tricky thieves, drunkards and menaces of the middle class. But it was quiet. It was a peaceful feeling. Evenings like these made her feel as if the world had been swept away into a blanket of dreams which made her appreciate sunlight even more. Valerie poked her soup, swirling the steaming broth. The carrots and potatoes were swimming in circles. The room became quiet with tension. Neither finished their meal; both too forlorn and silent to continue their once-enjoyable evening.

Both were thinking the same thing. She had run away with her father to the city. What made her change her mind?

Rethinking her decision; it was predictable to leave Daggorhorn. For years, she earned for freedom. She yearned for a chance to escape and seek her own destiny. But when she discovered that Peter had left her for Prudence, announcing he would take her hand in marriage because she was with child—her heart slipped from her chest and shattered into a million pieces. The emotional pain had become too much for a girl to experience. Peter was her world but he had been untrue to her. She was foolish, naïve, and young! Her world crumpled. Mother would soon realize that her daughter and husband would never return. She had left her home branded as a witch. Grandmother was dead. Lucy was dead. Henry would hate her. The only threat that lingered from that cursed place was Father Solomon and his insatiable appetite for human sacrifice and holy justice.

After looking at Peter's face one last time, she swore to herself she'd never return. And after forsaking herself she was left with only valuable option.

Her father, Cesaire.

Valerie did love her father and her wolf blood made her naturally loyal to him. Their bond intertwined together. And if she felt she was in a gaming mood then she thought of herself as part of a pack.

A wolf pack; father and daughter, runaways to challenge the world.

And the only chance that would be official was tonight.

"Valerie—"

"I know, Papa," she whispered, feeling overwhelmed and jittery.

Looking up to see his brown eyes she could feel his warmth; his fatherly love. Her blue eyes never faltered.

"Will it _hurt_?"

He nodded, holding her hand, "…Only for a little while."

Unbuttoning his shirt he revealed his broad shoulder, smooth and soft but as strong as an ox. His shoulder muscles moving like stones under a sheet. His hand traced there.

"My father bit me here but after a little while the scars went away. It made it easier to go out into daylight without raising questions. My father always protected me from the torches and pitchforks of humans. He gave me a gift. So, tonight, I will do the same to you, Valerie."

They both rose from the table. Valerie lifted her dress, kneeling. Both sat in the middle of the room, they looked at each other, unflinching. Frightened she held his hands. Her breath trembled.

"Tonight is the last night of the Blood Moon. I, Cesaire, will pass my gift to my only daughter, Valerie. You are my flesh, you are my blood, and you are my ultimate legacy. After 3 generations of uninterrupted blood lines, I will add a 4th to my line. I pass the torch to you. You, my only daughter, will be stronger and more powerful than I. We will be invincible together. Do you, Valerie, accept my gift?"

His brown eyes dilated to big yellow orbs.

"Yes."

Valerie stretched out her shaky palm.

"By blood, it takes. By blood, it gives," he held her palm to his mouth. His white fangs were barred and ready like well-tended weaponry. "By blood, it ends. By blood, it begins."

Squeezing her eyes shut, she could feel his bite!

His teeth clenched on her soft flesh.

It wasn't gentle nor was it rough.

Gasping for air, she opened her eyes to look at her palm.

There was no blood.

Only two half-moon circles turning black and red with infection.

Seeing her frightened face and trembling, Cesaire scooted close holding her body in his arms. Placing his chin on her blonde head, he rocked her. She could feel herself almost sob. His hand petted her hair as he kissed her head.

Valerie held her palm at her face and witnessing in shock as her fathers' gift coursed through her veins like snakes.

The gift traveled up her arm, past her elbow, onto her shoulder and then—everything went black.

"Papa…" she whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Her name was Ivy.

16 years old and already married to a man 6 years her senior, but he was a good man and he was a good husband too. She'd tell Valerie about her childhood days on a farm living with her father and mother. But when a wealthy man came and bought their lands, they moved to the city to start fresh. Both her parents worked at the factories. Valerie also explained her father worked there, too. Valerie pressed and squeezed the dough in her hands listening to Ivy introduce her to the baker. The arrogant and mean baker, Jacques, did not engage in their conversation. He was a man nearly reaching age 50 and he had no time to cluck among the hens as he put it.

"Do you have a husband, Charlotte?"

What a question to ask.

Valerie mused, "I was engaged once."

"Yes? What was his name?"

"Henry, Henry Lazar…"

"So… he fell in love with another girl?"

"Oh, no, no… he was a good man. Dependent, strong, and very kind. Wouldn't hurt a fly if his life depended on it." Valerie smiled, sad when she remembered giving Henry back his wedding gift.

Ivy nodded," The day I married my husband was the day I first met him. We both knew that we didn't want it but we had no choice. Our families were poor and desperate. All I wanted to do was crawl out my window and run away. Grab a horse and ride. Go anywhere."

Valerie looked at her, understanding," Oh, Ivy, I didn't run away from the altar. I came here with my father."

She blushed, putting a hand to her cheek.

"Oh, forgive me! I'm a hopeless romantic! I get it from my mother. My second guess was that you fell in love with another boy and you ran away together. It always happens in fairy tale books."

She laughed while Valerie felt pinched. That's what she wished would've happened. Instead boy loves girl. Girl loves another boy. Boy loves another girl.

Ivy wiped her hands on her apron.

"Come! Madame Alice wouldn't like us talking. She'll duck us 1 shilling if she catches us. She always says work brings good luck upon your house. She also says that bread brings good luck upon your home, too. She says following the rules brings good luck, too. She says a great deal of things."

"She sounds like a dream."

Ivy covered her mouth her hand, looked in both directions and whispered, "She's one of _those_ women. Fears no one but her husband and loves no one but her two sons. But she is a thrill! Her superstitions are the funny type."

Valerie narrowed her eyes.

"Superstitions…? Of what sort…?"

"Oh, nonsense about devil roosters, black cats, sleeping with your socks on and wearing gold rings on the wrong finger. Once she scolded me for not tying my shoe laces when I came to work. She believed some nonsense about witches using your shoe laces in dark rituals in the middle of the night."

Valerie pretended to laugh.

Oh no.

She needed to tell Papa.

She wiped her forehead, slick with sweat.

"What else do you know?"

Looking in all directions, Ivy whispered in her ear," I know that Madame Alice is having an affair. His name is Alec and he's the owner of the tavern near the butcher shop. He has a wife and 4 children. She thinks she's so sneaky when she comes into the kitchen nearly 3 hours after we've opened in the morning. The disgrace!" she smiled.

As much as Valerie appreciated the hot gossip, she needed to know if Madame Alice believed in werewolves. She wondered if the people of the city ever housed werewolves before and faced the deadly consequences.

If anyone knew then her father's plans would be ruined.

The agreement Valerie and Ivy reached that day was this: Ivy would teach her the basics of the kitchen and teach her how to operate the massive oven. There would be very little money involved in their pay but they would take most of their meals together at noon, but Valerie did not relish on the idea of eating inside the bakery with Madame Alice around so she and Ivy decided they would eat outside in the exit lane. After they had eaten their first dinner of bread and butter and dumplings, Ivy wrapped anything worthy taking in her apron pocket. She needed to feed her family, too.

It was a good idea. Madame Alice would never know. Valerie, too, took anything she could into a small sack. She gathered the ends, slung it into her apron pocket and headed back home, never looking back. The two young girls spent their days together sweating against the heat of the oven making an inventory of the place, listing the things that needed doing and their order of chores. Madame Alice, with a poking finger, demanded and demanded them around the entire kitchen. On and on and on, the list was becoming bottomless!

Work!

Work!

Work!

Be the first awake in the morning!

Be the last asleep at night!

The floors needed sweeping!

The windows needed wiping!

The stove needed scrubbing!

The cabinets need dusting!

Sweep the chimney!

Move the bread onto the iron racks!

Get rid of the rodents on the floor!

Manage the front desk for customers!

Wash your face, don't scare the customers!

Smile like a proper lady for the customers!

Both young girls did their orders while they sweated like running hogs in summer. Ivy helped Valerie with her chores while Jacques slid the dough in the oven and timed his baking to the exact moment the bread would be done. Valerie wiped her forehead with her arm as she stretched out the dough across the table and powdered the flour. She wiped her hands on her apron as she grabbed 2 logs and threw them in the stove, feeling the intense heat lick against her skin. Beads of sweat ran down her neck as she slammed the opening shut. Ivy helped her by rolling out the floury paste. The dough was rolled out into wide flat slabs and given to Jacques to bend, roll, and bake. His plump, yet skilled hands, tossed the white slabs into the air and catching it on his fingers swirling into a tower. The sun was high up in the sky which only meant one thing; lunch. Both girls grabbed their provisions and took the backdoor exit to their lane. They knelt and sat on the cobblestone curb and unwrapped their pouches. Two stale pieces of bread, a tiny block of cheese, a slice of pork, and two carrots were sitting on the table.

"We share?"

"We share."

**Meanwhile:**

Cesaire could smell it. His nostrils flared to the scent. Inhaling it and choking it out with a cough covering his mouth with his hand. He could smell the danger from within this factory. With his wolf eyes he glared at the silver wheels rolling round and round bringing life to the machine. The silver, glimmering, was everywhere in sight but just as long as he had his gloves then his secret would remain a mystery. Even one touch would mean certain death; a slow, slow, slow and painful death.

But there was a bigger threat.

His hunger.

The human part of him cried for a piece of sliced salted pork with bread while the wolf side of him craved his annual yuletide offering of livestock. A fat pig or a fat goat would do perfectly. Unable to have neither, at full satisfaction, he needed to let his daughter know of the cravings any young werewolf will have. Thinking of his daughter now, he wondered if she too must be starving. She might be feeling the same way he felt; eyes twitching, feet burning, and head nauseous from being so hungry all the time. It's a terrible habit. One night they would both have to hunt.

Human or not.

He needed to feed his pup.

Cesaire concentrated on his work as he mentally made a list of duties he must perform as a wolf father. His stomach growled at that moment. Agreeing with his list.

"Damn…" he mumbled.

Suddenly in the corner of his eye, he saw his stern employer, Mr. Mavis, patrol his workers with strict owl eyes. Cesaire didn't want to risk his job excusing himself to the chamber pot again. His employer was very serious about work at the factory. No excuses. Damn, Cesaire had to eat something! Mr. Mavis glanced at him curiously before patrolling the lengthy aisle with two hands clasped behind his back. Unwilling to wait any longer, he searched for anything that would subdue the rising tension within his belly and stop the pestering ache! A fellow employee, Mr. Finn, standing across from him, looked at him questionably with raised brows before continuing his work. Mr. Finn was a kind and gentle fellow who never questioned or complained about anything before but ever since Cesaire had come to the factory he's been suspicious.

Suspicions were just like a noose, threatening to tighten and suffocate him. Sucking the inside of his cheek, his frantic eyes spotted a mouse scurrying against the walls scratching and rubbing its little face and cleaning its whiskers. Its large black eyes wide and black as two buttons looked for any scraps to feed its tiny belly.

Instantly, his tongue licked.

His hunger rose.

Even its little body looks like an appetizing meal.

Looking back and forth and in all directions he wiped his forehead with his arm while secretly plotting his next move.

While wiping the sweat he coincidently '_discovered_' his shoe lace was untied.

Mr. Finn watched Cesaire kneel behind the mill, disappearing for a mere second. Thinking nothing of it he gradually continued to work. Mr. Mavis was a very strict boss always keeping his duties first and his priorities together and never allowing himself to befriend his workers. Mr. Finn, too, needed to pull his weight in labor. The employee saw the brunette haired man stand wiping his mouth.

Noticing this he pointed a finger.

"You got… a little _something_… right there," he told.

"Hmm?" Cesaire widened his eyes. "Oh thanks…" he smiled sheepishly wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

It was blood.

**Meanwhile**:

Another customer here and another customer there and another customer way over there and another customer coming in. Jacque rolled and pounded the dough on the pan before sliding into the mouth of the oven, closing the latch and working on another batch of dough. Ivy, the poor thing, braved the heat of the oven and threw more logs inside while the heat blazed fiercely. The heat became more intense throughout the whole bakery, making it unbearable for everyone. Madame Alice opened all the windows and opened the doors and placed a cinder block to keep it open, fanning her face as beads of sweat come swimming down.

There were so many people walking in and out that it made Valerie's head spin. But that wasn't the only thing making her head spin—it was her nausea. All morning it was happening and she had no idea what it was or what was causing it. All she knew was that the aching came from her stomach and somewhere in her throat. With each passing second, she could feel it swell. With each passing customer, she could feel it become heavier.

Her hunger is becoming hard to control. It was so odd. It wasn't a hunger for bread and butter. But it was a _different_ kind of hunger. Cursing, she patted her stomach.

"Charlotte, we need you to go make a delivery," Madame Alice unhooked a black cloak from the hanger.

"A delivery…?"

"Yes, deliver bread!"

"To whom?"

"To Mr. Elmer down the lane, our best customer," she wrapped Valerie in the cloak, fixed her collar and tucked in her golden hair and pushed her out the door.

Valerie looked at the address on the delivery paper.

"This is all the way in First Class."

"Yes, when you come to the gatekeeper of his household show him the delivery note and he'll escort you in," she fixed her bonnet.

"What do I do then?"

She pointed a finger to her nose, "You do **not** talk to anyone, do **not** look at anyone, walk straight and keep your hands to yourself. Don't make any noise! You stay small as you possibly can! Just give him the delivery and come straight back! God forbid you do something, make a fool of yourself and forsake my bakery services to ever go to the First Class again!" she fixed her bonnet again.

"Yes, Madame," she responded.

"Do anything foolish and it'll be your arse on the line!"

Madame Alice nodded sharply, too sharply.

She pushed her out.

One of these days her forked tongue is going to cut herself and she's going to bleed to death, Valerie thought. But she was appreciating the cool breeze of the wind once she was outside the bakery but that didn't stop her from having nausea in her stomach. Gripping her hands on the basket she began to walk down the alley, squeezing past women and men and keeping her head down being grateful the hood of her cloak covered her face. She was told not to bring any attention to herself.

Her cloak swept across the cobblestone like a sheet as she went to First Class watching the ocean of merchants disappear and fade away. There were no merchants, no loud noises, and no more noisy trolleys going up and down the streets. This place was different than Middle Class. It was less crowded; instead the streets were occupied with large chariots strolling from corner to corner with large horses with heavy hooves. Their heavy hooves clacked against cobblestone while their masters enjoyed a day out in the bright afternoon sun, smiling and socializing.

Here she saw Madams and Sirs walking arm in arm on the sidewalk, tall like storks and as elegant as fish. Children in clean clothes hopped like crickets chasing toys and each other, laughing and screaming. Above were ribbons hanging from the trees like string, decorating the neighborhood beautifully.

"Wow," she breathed.

Valerie stretched her neck back as she tried to count the colors, flying in the air like birds. Every window in each house was lit from the ceiling to cellar, giving very welcoming warmth to anyone. She rounded a corner and came to a large circle filled with people, talking and laughing and sitting around a stone fountain. Large fish the size of cows were frozen at the base of the fountain, spitting out an endless supply of water, frozen together like a snowflake.

It was beautiful.

"Oh!" she exclaimed bumping into someone," How silly of me. Excuse me, sir, I did not see you there!"

She fixed her apron and looked up to see green eyes staring back at her, sparkling and romantic. Those eyes belonged to a boy with dark brown hair, tall and handsome. This boy, if he was a boy, had big broad shoulders and a lean chest with lips begging to be kissed. He had a perfectly strong chin with handsome cheekbones. Indeed, he was very handsome for his age. She fixed her bonnet another time before retreating back in the shade of her cloak, trying to hide her blush. She would have said something to flatter him. But he wore…the most ridiculous costume that she has ever seen!

She couldn't decide if he was the village fool or a King's jester! His outfit was green and purple rimmed with bells and gold while wearing black pants and he was carrying a frog mask beneath his large muscled arm.

"Oh, forgive me; I didn't see you standing there, too!" he smiled, fixing his collar and smoothing out his shirt.

"What are you wearing?" she blurted out before she realized, smiling.

He looked down his body.

"This? I thought the gossip would've spread sooner! Oh, I'm a poor traveler robbed of his luck and looking for a princess who will kiss my lips and turn me into a Prince! You wouldn't know where I would find a princess would you? I hate being a frog! They get eaten for breakfast by those damned rich nincompoops!" he pointed.

She laughed, covering her mouth.

His face beamed at this.

"I didn't know that I attracted the attention of beautiful girls, too! Ha! My group will have a laugh once they see this! I'm growing more famous by the minute!" he placed his fists on his hips, standing taller.

"Excuse me?" she asked, recovering from her laugh.

He pointed towards the fountain. Yes, there was something there that she didn't see before. Behind him she saw a large wooden platform decorated with gold streamers and silver ribbons, hanging from strings and poles high up in the air. The bright colors caught her attention and then she realized what his occupation was.

It was an actor's stage.

The mystery is solved. The wide stage was lit with candles, fake paper Mache trees, and a painted background of a forest. She approached watching a group of children sit in their chairs, fussing and laughing and grabbing at each other already getting impatient for the show to start. The boy came up beside her.

"Come on! Or you'll miss the show!" he pulled her arm.

She laughed," I'm sorry but I have to go. I need to make a very important delivery." She lifted her basket.

The address wasn't very far and she reminded herself to focus on her job. She and her father depended on it.

But the boy looked down at her basket, flashed a mischievous smile and quickly snatched a roll of bread from her basket and hopped away!

"Hey! Give it back!" she chased him.

He smiled," What will you give me for it?"

She jumped for it! Not tall enough!

"Give it back!" she huffed.

The boy hopped up on his stage and dangled the roll in the air, juggling it.

"If you stay and watch the show until the end, I'll give it back. Promise," he smiled.

Valerie thought of her options. She couldn't go and make an incomplete delivery; Madame Alice would have her head! She couldn't eat the boy either. Father would disapprove.

"Do you always bribe young girls for your _puppet show_?"

"No and it is not a puppet show! It is a wonderful and magnificent show performed by professional and distinguished actors such as myself!"

"…You're dressed as a frog."

"Point is: you must stay! You have to stay! What say you, fair princess?"

"I say: let the rich nincompoops eat you for breakfast."

Kicking her foot on the ground, she turned on her heel with her hands clasping on her basket handle and walking away trying to repair her honor. She would not tolerate this distraction anymore. Frantic and desperate, the boy ran in front of her with his hands in the air trying to stop her before she became too angry with him.

"Okay, okay, if I give this back… will you give me something back in return? Like…" he rolled his eyes in his sockets, thinking.

An idea came to his head and he smiled at her warmly.

Dangling the bread in her face, he winked.

"If you give me… your name… then I'll give it back…"

Biting her lip, she could feel herself become tangled within his schemes and she remembered playing these kinds of games with Peter when they were younger. Always playing games and pestering each other with silly pranks. But this boy didn't remind her of Peter in too many ways, but she couldn't help but become playful and intrigued by this Frog Boy. Father would have a fit if he ever knew that she was being approached by boys again. He always told her to be careful. They weren't in Daggorhorn anymore. The rules have changed. They both could not risk the dangers of befriending anyone until they were completely safe. But, seeing him in his glittering ridiculous costume, she decided to allow herself a little fun.

It couldn't hurt.

"Charlotte…" she whispered.

Nodding, he placed on his mask. Stepping back he flashed her one last smile before beginning his show.

"Richard…"

He tossed the roll back to her.

A small group of men rang their tiny orchestra, dramatizing his entrance! The little children of the town circle cheered with glee as he hopped up on stage and jumped in joy! With his hands moving like dancing snakes he began to tell them a fairy tale story about a beautiful princess who would find her destiny kissing a frog who would become a prince. For a while, she listened to his story about the discovery of love hidden in disguise. An ugly swamp frog promises a beautiful young princess that if she kisses him, then he will shed his reptilian cloak and turn into a handsome prince. Believing and mistrusting, the princess kisses the frog and discovers true love and living happily ever after. Richard, the silly fool, crouched like a frog and hopped around amusing the children with his playful antics.

Another man, thin and wearing a blond wig, clumsily landed a misaimed kiss on Richard earning laughter from the children! Valerie laughed too as the man in the blond wig desperately wiped off his mouth and pretended to fall backwards in disgust. Just as predicted, Richard rolled into a ball and began to quiver like a leaf as his clothes were shredded away. Beneath his purple and green clothes was a second pair of clothes. He tossed the frog mask away and stood tall with both hands on his waist and turned his head proudly while he placed a phony crown on his head. It was true; the frog turned into a handsome prince. Richard wore white clothes with a leather belt and animal hide boots that hugged his body, clearly sculpted by hard labor and experience. Truly, she was impressed.

It was good to laugh again.

As Valerie gained distance between her and the stage, she could feel Richard staring at her and secretly telling her things.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

At last, Valerie had made her delivery to Mr. Elmer and swiftly returned back to the bakery trying to avoid any other distractions that might set her off her course. Her day returned to its usual boring routine. Working, baking and cleaning in Madame Alice's little kingdom. There was so much that was happening. She earned her keep at the bakery and made her way back home where she found her father waiting for her. Shutting and locking the door, she walked to him. From her apron pocket, she slipped out a few pieces of bread while her father sat across from her at the table. It was all they had and she knew that they didn't have enough money to buy food for themselves. He lit a candle. Curiously, Cesaire stuffed the pieces of bread away and he slipped something out from his own pocket.

"Papa?"

"We're not going to eat. Not yet."

"Then what are we going to eat?" she rubbed her belly.

"Tonight we're going to try something different."

"We are? What are we doing?"

She saw him place something on the table between them and she stared at it for the longest time. Her blue eyes looked at him. From that moment; she realized what _he_ was doing. She realized what _they_ were going to be doing.

It was a white feather.

A single feather, nothing more and nothing less!

"Tonight, we start your training."

He leaned back in his chair while his daughter looked at him in shock. She didn't know that they would start so soon and she didn't know that it would not be on a night of the full moon.

"Papa…"

He raised his hand.

"Valerie, you knew this day was coming. All young werewolves are taught by their elders and now I'm going to teach you. I'm going to teach you because I know you're growing hungry and you're going to become hungrier by the day. I can feel it," he softly smiled, as warm as summer. "And my instincts as a _wolf father_ demand me to feed my pup. I want you to survive. No Papa wants their daughter to go hungry," He touched her chin.

She smiled.

Well, she was feeling hungrier than usual. Trying to suppress it was no use. And regular human food was not satisfying her cravings. Eating a pound of roasted pork would not slake her hunger. It was no use. It made her feel like a newborn infant again. Always crying and not knowing what to do. She needed another kind of food but she didn't know how to obtain it. Didn't even have the slightest clue…!

She had no idea how to hunt.

"Yes, Papa... I have been… a _little_ hungry," she looked down. "So… what do I need to learn, Papa?"

Unbeknownst, she began to tremble.

A thought came to her head.

But she couldn't allow herself to feel regret!

She chose this life. She knew what the consequences were.

"I-I… don't have to kill—"

"No," he responded. "It's too early for you. Young werewolves start small. Your stomach couldn't properly digest anything that was too big. It could be a lethal dose of death. It is important for young werewolves to watch their diet for the next year or more. You can eat small things like sheep, pigs, and other livestock. When you grow older and your stomach is stronger and then…" he trailed off.

There was silence. He didn't need to explain. He didn't need to scare her because he knew that his little girl was sweet and she wouldn't hurt a fly. All she needed to know were the basics. He just needed her to survive.

"So," he pointed to the white feather. "I'm going to teach you how to use… _your nose_. Tonight, you'll learn how to catch a scent even from the _smallest_ of creatures. Once you know this then there is nothing you can't track."

She nodded.

"Okay, Papa… Tell me what to do."

He picked up the stem.

"Now, if you look at it… you can see it is any other regular feather. Small and fragile and it is the single piece of evidence you have. But if you put it to your nose…" he inhaled slowly, puffing his chest. "Then you can smell it…"

He gave it to her.

Her fingers touched its soft little strings, fluffy and tiny. Valerie understood his lesson but she didn't understand why she was doing this. How was this going to satisfy her hunger? Deep down inside, she wanted her Papa to proud of her and she wanted him to see her as part of the family. Of their family!

Because he was all she had.

Giving him a knowing look, she placed the feather beneath her nose and slowly inhaled while shutting her eyes closed. Disappointment appeared in her eyes.

"Papa…" she whispered. "I-I can't smell anything…"

Her spirits dropped.

"That's alright, honey. It takes time…" he comforted her. "You are young and you are learning your first lesson. It's normal if you make mistakes. It's perfectly fine if learn from your mistakes," he smiled. "Okay, now try again. Take all the time you need…"

Once more, she smelled.

More determined, she focused and concentrated allowing the urgency of her hunger to motivate her. She was hungry and becoming more frustrated.

Cesaire weaved his fingers together, "Take your time, little one. Allow your nose to do the work for you. Use your instincts. Let your hunger motivate you to smell what you need to track. Let it be your torch."

"I think I smell… something," she whispered. "I think I smell…salt water."

He smiled.

"And?"

"I smell… pine…"

"And?"

"That's all…"

She may have felt like a failure but Cesaire couldn't be more proud of his little girl! Taking her hand he lifted her off her seat and opened their windows wide! A cool air swept in! He stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders and smiled. The city lights were bright and glowing like stars while chimney smoke clouded their glow like fog. Some buildings were taller than others and some were not and other buildings were wider than others while some were not. This city may seem like one large playground for creatures like themselves, but she also realizes that this city became a large institution for her.

Where she'll learn to be a werewolf!

And be a werewolf she must!

"This city is huge. It's perfect place for millions of birds to make their nests. There are crows, storks, pigeons, doves and more birds traveling from all directions. Riding the currents of the wind! It's your job to find the one bird that matches….this feather." He held it up.

She gasped, "Th-That's….impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible, Valerie…" he hugged her shoulder.

"I hope you're right…"

"Now that you found the smell you need to track it."

She intended to walk out of their front door and go out the front doors of the main office like any other civilized person but her Papa stopped her and as soon as he got her attention, he hopped onto the frame of the window. The darkness of the night waits for no one and their lesson would end as soon as dawn comes. Walking out the door would take too much time! Crouched like a burglar, he turned towards her.

"Class is in session. Follow me."

Bending his knees, he hopped out onto the plank of the ceiling with a thud, enjoying the cold night air flow through his hair. Valerie peered down and her father waved at her. Reluctant and mistrusting, she cautiously swung her leg onto the window frame while leaving her other foot touching the floor. Gulping, she lifted her foot slowly and sat on the sill with both legs dangling out the window. The height intimidated her and making her more afraid by the minute. Their apartment was on the highest floor level of the building! Her fingers clutched on the wooden frame while she tried to control her shaky breath. Balancing her body, she looked down at her father.

"It's ok, little one. Trust your instincts."

"I'm scared, Papa…"

"I won't let anything happen to you…" he raised his hands up to the air as if he was ready to catch her.

"Papa…"

"It won't hurt you, Valerie. Nothing can hurt you. Any other human that would jump this high wouldn't be as fortunate as me and you. My blood runs through your veins. That makes you stronger than 10 men. Once your training is over then you will be stronger than 100 men. It won't hurt you, little one."

"You promise, Papa?"

Cesaire smiled warmly, "A wolf father never lets anything happen to its pup."

Easily, she believed his words. There was no person on this good green earth that she trusted more than him. They would take care of each other and they would protect each other from whatever harm would come their way. Valerie placed her trust in him. Sliding forward, she fought the butterflies biting in her stomach while unclasping her fingers from the wooden frame.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she fell.

**Meanwhile**:

Henry Lazar watched his horse drink from the cold frozen river while he swiped a flat rock against the blade of his sword, sharpening it. The steel made a thick and grinding sound against his blade sending him into a trance. Everything he knew was destroyed. Gone! The cold night air filled his lungs with dread as the memories came rushing through him like the snow that fell through the darkness. His bride-to-be was gone. His father; destroyed and eaten. His mother; mad with grief, condemned herself to wear black funeral garbs for the rest of her life.

With so much loss and so much sacrifice, Henry found his courage and decided he will protect and serve. Dedicating his life to fighting evil.

Fighting evil with holy justice as Father Solomon as his mentor and ally.

A boy, who became a man too soon, had become someone with nothing to lose. Win or not, he wanted to prove to himself that he will become the man that his father always wanted. Alive or not, he needed to prove his worth.

From behind, he could hear his mentor approach him.

"Henry…" Father Solomon greeted, walking from the shadows of the woods. "Are you… alright?"

Henry looked down, "Is that all you came to ask me?"

Father Solomon clasped both his hands behind his back.

"No," he answered. He approached until he stood next to him, not looking directly at him but staring beyond the lake. "That is not all I came here to ask. From the moment we left Daggorhorn, I could…sense your struggle."

"Could you now?"

"Yes," he whispered, looking down at his feet. "Do you… have your doubts?"

"About?"

"Seeking revenge."

Father Solomon looked at him, directly and unfazed.

"No," he replied, looking back. "Why do you ask?"

That's what he expected.

"Because…" he whispered, slipping off his gloves. Revealing his silver claws. "Like you: I became… distraught when I lost my own wife. I was devastated and I was confused with so many things. It wasn't easy. That was the day I discovered that there is a very, very thin line between… justice and revenge. Do you understand? Revenge can be a disease. Henry, I just you to know what you're getting yourself into when you join my elite. What you may see and what you may do… will change you in the end. You won't be the same man you were before."

Those were the wise words of a teacher. Half of what he said showed him pity and condolences. The poor boy has suffered through so much. Henry sheathed his sword, stood up, and gave Father Solomon an honest nod and adjusted his holster.

"You said yourself Father Solomon… There is evil in this world that must be stopped and I believe that God made a plan for all of us. I've sacrificed so much and those sacrifices are choices that I've made. But the loss I have suffered… was a choice made for me," he solemnly shook his head, eyes darkening as he thought about his bride. "_You said_… the wolf captured my bride and it may have killed her. That the Wolf had nearly killed my mother-in-law! The Wolf has also eaten my father-in-law Cesaire!"

Henry tightened his holster.

"Valerie was murdered by the beast. She was innocent. And that is a loss that I cannot forgive, Father."

The young boy walked to his awaiting horse, strapped the saddle on and readied himself to travel. There are over 5 villages within a 100 mile radius and they needed to find the Wolf before it destroys anymore lives. The Blood Moon had passed and if the Wolf bites someone on a regular full moon, they die. The city was a week away on horse and they couldn't waste any time. He climbed up and trotted towards the main road where the other henchmen waited, joining in their circle. Father Solomon didn't know how to feel about his new apprentice. The holy man never had a son before; but that was about to change.

**In The City**:

"Use the wind, it is the key to tracking," Cesaire circled around his daughter as she stood as straight as a pin and pointed her nose to the sky.

Both father and daughter were gallivanting about the city like two burglars, jumping and running through the starlit sky across neighborhoods. Her strong legs propelling her up to new heights and new speeds that she's never felt before, trying to follow her Papa. For miles and miles they did this until he instructed her to use the wind as a tool for her own advantage. The cold air blew through her golden hair as she began to focus her senses carefully while her father stood beside her with folded arms.

"I can smell… bread and water…" she smiled, inhaling.

"That's right. That's exactly right," Cesaire smiled, smelling bread and water too. He placed his hands up to his neck, massaging them. "Now, feel the wind coming from the east. Don't block it out and don't stop moving your neck muscles."

"My neck muscles, Papa?"

"Yes, it acts like…a beacon. Almost like when you move your fingers to touch something and you can feel what it feels like, what the texture feels like. But you're using your nose—try to taste the smell. Sharpen it as you would a knife."

Putting his words to use, she stretched back her neck as far as she could and inhaled while she closed her eyes. Slowly, she lowered her head back down, softening her muscles until she could properly swallow again.

"I smell… fish," she opened her eyes.

"And?"

"There's…spice."

He pointed his nose in the air, "I smell… a dinner. There are…." He inhaled slowly, his chest rising. "I smell a father and a mother dining with their children…." He exhaled slowly, licking his lips. A cool breeze blew through his hair. "Mmm, they're having spices salmon and roasted pork with hot potatoes. I dare say… they're having wine, also. It must be a special occasion."

Valerie couldn't smell it but she was definitely impressed by her father's talent. With a few more years of training, maybe she'll be as great as him.

"Now… where is the bird?" he gave her the feather.

She put to her nose, "Am I close?"

"You tell me."

"How do I know which direction the wind is coming from? I feel that the wind is all around me."

"Allow nature to tell you, little one."

"How?"

"Look for a tree… look at its leaves. Look at their shaking leaves and determine if it's downwind or high wind. Or look to the blades of grass for direction." He pointed to the black sky. "Even the birds will tell you."

She inhaled.

Clearing her mind, her nose inhaled.

Yes, there was something being carried upon the wind.

It was something very familiar.

"I smell… "Her nose tingled. "Corn…"

"What else do you smell? What does your nose tell you?"

"It tells me… there's something coming from the North. It's telling me there something interesting waiting for me."

Cesaire smiled, nodding his head. "Well then there's no time to waste! Dawn is nearly upon us! Come Valerie! You are almost complete with your first lesson!"

Valerie and her father sprinted off the roof of the clock tower and dove downwards like two cannonballs upon the streets, falling 100 feet! The weight of their bodies punched the earth and they began to dash side by side in a friendly race! Their inhuman speed disturbed very street light, flickering as they rushed by like two shadows towards another part of the city. Valerie noticed they had entered the Lower Class, riddled with street puddles and rats gnawing at abandoned shoes while crows pecked at dead things.

"Papa!" she exclaimed, coming to a sudden halt in the street. "I found it! I found it!"

"SShh! Keep your voice down!"

She ran to a dark alley.

"I found the bird!" she kneeled down to pick up the poor fat creature and lift it above her head like a trophy. "This poor chicken is missing its feather!" she teased.

Cesaire cracked a smile.

"You've completed your first lesson, little one. As a wolf father I am so proud of you just as I am proud of you every day," he petted her head.

"Papa…" she leaned into his chest as the chicken clucked around their feet. "So what do we do now, Papa?"

"You need to practice every day. I will help you, little one. Soon you'll be locating every missing chicken in the city," he smiled warmly, hugging her shoulders. "But first, you…" he poked her nose," have to feed."

"On the chicken…?"

"Yes, but you must feed tomorrow night."

She pouted, "Why tomorrow?"

"Dawn is almost here. We don't want a bloody chicken causing uproar in this place. A dead bird only tells someone there's a cult out here sacrificing animals for dark purposes. The constables will be searching everywhere for the perpetrator. We have to be careful, Valerie, because if anyone ever discovered us… I don't have a next move," he confessed, lowering his eyes. "I wouldn't know what to do. The city was my plan for you girls and if this city threatens our way of life… you and I must disappear. Far, far away from anyone we ever knew. And I don't want that kind of life for you…"

She gasped, smiling, "Wow, Papa, how do you know so much?"

"I've been alive for a very long time, little one. For years I've practiced my tact even when my father was gone. He taught me so much when he was alive and there was nothing I appreciated more than his lessons. He taught me how to be careful when it concerns my wolf side. But when your grandfather died, I was the man of the house; I had to take care of grandmother and find a future for us," he petted her golden head softly, smiling. "Now, history is repeating itself. I'm the one who's going to take care of you… because you're my baby girl."

His eyes told it all! Completely heartfelt by his fatherly confession, Valerie could feel herself nearly break out in tears and embrace him tightly. But if his words were true then she had to return the favor also. They couldn't keep any secrets from each other from now on! She had to take care of him, too.

"Papa, there's something I need to tell you," she walked closer. "It's Madame Alice… she's… a very… superstitious woman."

Rocked, Cesaire glared.

"I-Ivy told me today… and she told me that Alice is a believer... in the devil, witchcraft, devil worship, and—"

He stepped closer," And did she say werewolves?"

"No…"

Cesaire's eyes dilated," Does she suspect you…?"

"No…"

"Has she said anything to you…? Anything that would threaten you…?"

"No."

He wiped his face," Who's Ivy…?"

"A girl who works at the baker with me…."

"Does she suspect?"

"No. No one does."

"Has anyone come to the bakery that suspects? Constables…? A neighbor or someone whom you might recognize…?"

"No…"

She wanted to tell him about the boy she met but how could she? Richard didn't seem to be a threat. He was just a boy! As much as she wanted, she wanted her old life back. She wanted to chase boys and gossip with her friends and tell little white lies to her mother. But maybe Richard can be her only secret from her father.

"Have you done anything that might catch attention? Have you been doing anything that wasn't out of the ordinary?"

"No…"

"Alright, baby…" he embraced her. He kissed her temple as he closed his eyes, feeling his sentimental feelings come astray. "Oh, Valerie, if _anything_ or _anyone_ ever—ever- hurts you…! They'll have to answer to me."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

"Ivy!"

No answer.

"Ivy!"

No response.

"Ivy!"

That stupid girl was running late! Where could she be? Madame Alice grunted as she pulled her hair up into a big sloppy bun while organizing the over-sized rings on her fingers. Looking one last time in the mirror, she strutted out of her office wearing her new dress and she looked at Valerie.

"Charlotte! Charlotte!" she approached, "You must stand at the front counter and help the customers!"

"What?"

"Ivy isn't here to do it! So you must! Go! We're opening now and customers already want their daily bread for their breakfast prayer! You want them to have something to eat after they saw a prayer don't you?" she glared, challenging.

"Yes, of course. Where are you going?"

"I'm going to do some personal business in town today," she fixed her hair, wiping her cheeks and forehead. "Advertisement is key!"

Did advertisement really need to include red lip paint?

"Yes, Madame Alice," Valerie bowed and she washed her hands, wiped her apron and fixed her bonnet.

The large woman fixed her bonnet, tied a white fabric around her head and tucked it under her chin leaving the doors of the bakery. Already sweating, Valerie wiped her forehead and stood at her assigned post while enjoying the dawn of a new day glow through the windows like spears. Soon, many customers came running through the door ordering their bread and loafs while Valerie urgently ran back and forth. The heat became intense once again. As soon as the clock tower tolled, Valerie walked out to the exit lane to enjoy her afternoon lunch when she suddenly smelled…_something_. It smelled familiar! From afar, she could see someone stand behind a barrel. Using her nose, she inhaled their scent just like Papa taught her to.

It definitely smelled familiar.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Charlotte?"

She stepped forward, narrowing her eyes, "Ivy?"

"Charlotte!" the girl cried as she rushed into her arms," Oh, Charlotte! Today is the happiest day of my life…!"

"What happened to you? Where were you this morning?"

"Oh, Charlotte…! I love him! I love him!" she cried, shaking her shoulders. "Today I discovered that I am going to have a babe!"

Valerie gasped, "You're with child!" she embraced her. "I'm so happy for you! You're blooming!"

"Yes! Yes! I'm so happy but I'm feeling absolutely awful!" she laughed, holding her hand to her chin while her other hand touched her belly. "I couldn't even bare to leave my bed! My morning sickness makes a mess of everything, don't you think?"

"Come! I'm sure Madame Alice will be happy—"

"Oh no…!" Ivy hushed her. They moved deeper into the alley. "Madame Alice won't allow me to step foot into there again if she hears!"

"Why…?"

"Because she believes that all women are unfit for anything when we are with child," she sneered. "She's just a typical housewife who relies for everything from a husband. She couldn't mix her own cup of tea unless there's a strong gullible husband out there doing it for her. What a world for us poor females!"

Valerie looked around and whispered, "From _two husbands_…!"

Ivy gasped, "She didn't!"

"She left just this morning!"

Valerie laughed, covering her mouth.

"Oh, that old winged bat! Soon she's going to have a taste of her own medicine and wish one day that she would've stuck to her own advice!" Ivy laughed, enjoying the hot gossip.

Both girls began walking back to the bakery. Ivy placed a gentle hand on Valerie's shoulder, pulling her in closer.

"So you must promise not to say a word to Madame Alice, Charlotte. My husband and I are trying to raise enough money and it's so hard these days with so much hard labor and new people moving in from the country. A babe will be difficult to support."

"Not a word," Valerie whispered.

**Meanwhile**:

"Did you hear the news? Mr. Edwin, the shopkeeper from down the lane, reported a great deal of rats leaving the city."

"Rats?"

"Rats?"

"Leaving?

"Oh, aye, rats! A whole squad of 'em! Just jumpin' outta' their sewers and running for the hills!"

"I say the work of gypsy magic!"

"Nonsense! Not for those miserable creatures…?"

"Then what?"

"Maybe a large cat is prowlin' the streets like some blood hound!"

"Hmph! I say good riddance! My wife says good riddance! The people say good riddance! Good riddance! Hmph!"

The gossip was true, not doubt, colonies of rats are leaving the city in broad daylight. There were little herds of them scurrying down the streets and out of the walls and into the rivers, never to return! The city's constables had to patrol the streets, warning its citizens, and carefully escorting the rats to the exits with torches of fire and buckets of water. This took hours. It was unspeakable! Where could they be going? What were they looking for? The people of the city were overjoyed and completely shocked by this sudden unexpected migration. Some thought it was a work of God and that the disease of the plague would go somewhere else! Men, women, children and priests celebrated the cleansing! Thanking their God for this unexpected gift. Some, more than not, were worried about their leaving. People like Madame Alice were becoming superstitious by this act of nature, wary and cautious. Because if large groups of rats were leaving the safe dark sewers below the city… then what were they running from? That was the question.

Cesaire glanced at the men and left the tavern to head home to his awaiting daughter. Once inside, he found her looking out of her bedroom window biting her nails. Sensing her worry, he approached and touched her shoulders.

"Something wrong little one?"

She sighed, "Are they leaving because of us, Papa?"

He squeezed her shoulders, "Yes." He nodded his head. "They knew we were here."

It was the truth. There was no way he could lie to his daughter.

She turned towards him, "What do we do, Papa? What if someone notices? What if they catch us? What if they discover who we really are—"

"They won't," he held her face. He kissed her head, "We'll be safe. They're not going to discover us. For years, I've been careful and clever and I protected you and loved you. This won't be any different, I promise. When you complete your training, I promise we'll leave as soon as possible and run away far from here. We both need to be strong, little one," he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a gentle embrace. "Papa will always be here for you…"

While she enjoyed his warm fatherly embrace, they both looked out her bedroom window and they were reminded of all the obstacles and dangers that they would soon encounter. The rats were the first sign. What next? They would soon find out. Their window gave a yellow glow, seen from the bottom of the street like a beacon of a terrible and awful secret that housed something misunderstood and feared. Their window; provided a scenic view. The city looked quiet, stiff with silence as the two werewolves looked out their window. The city was beautiful with mystery and discoveries waiting to happen.

"Papa… I smell…" she inhaled"…blood."

**Meanwhile**:

Henry watched as Father Solomon ordered the Captain to herd the villagers inside the church building while he and his fellow men began to search every nook and cranny! Immediately, his men began to ransack through every home! They began discarding clothes, fur skins, and precious belongings onto the snowy cold ground.

"I want every home searched! Leave nothing unturned! Leave nothing untouched!" Father Solomon bellowed pointing his finger to the sky, stepping in a circle watching his men work. "Find them!"

Henry watched the peaceful community shred itself apart. The boy was given orders to stay with the people inside the church building and keep a sharp eye out. Fortunately, no one was burned entering the holy grounds.

"Everyone wait here until Father Solomon returns!" he yelled.

"He has no right to keep us here!" an angry villager barked!

"What is he doing to our homes?

"What's he going to do to us next?"

"There's something he's not telling us!"

"Are the rumors true? Is there really a Wolf here!?"

"It's going to destroy all of us!"

Henry raised his hands, "People! Please! People! Father Solomon is doing everything in his power to help you! Please! The Wolf cannot walk on holy ground! You will be safe here! Father Solomon wants you all to stay where the Wolf cannot reach you! You will be safe here!"

"But is there a Wolf here!?" a hysterical woman shouted.

He could not confirm nor deny that. The Wolf was a very sneaky and mysterious creature! Wherever the beast was, he wanted to destroy it. The Captain came running in, grabbed Henry and whispered to him.

"Father Solomon is requesting for you…"

Nodding his head, Henry followed the Captain to a straw hut squeezed between two other straw huts and walked inside to find Father Solomon sitting at a table with a fellow villager. It was a woman; dressed in black robes with white hair clutching onto a wooden crucifix. Henry, puzzled sat next to Father Solomon as the woman tried to suppress her weeping.

"Aww, Henry, glad you're here," Solomon patted his shoulder. "Now, you see this woman here?"

Henry nodded," Yes…"

"Do you see anything wrong with her?"

"No…"

He pointed his finger," That's because you're not looking closely." He stood and approached the woman and snatched away her crucifix. he grabbed her chin and held it tightly. "You see now? Her eyes…! You are looking into the eyes of a Witch!"

Henry, enchanted, gazed into her eyes colored blue and brown. Two different colors…? Unheard of! Quickly, Father Solomon called his Captain and he dragged the screaming woman to the front courtyard. Henry quickly followed and shook with fear as the men began to tie the woman to a large wooden stake.

"What are you doing!?" he exclaimed, running forward.

Solomon approached, "You always burn a Witch. That's how you kill it. You can either tear apart its limbs or bury a Witch alive, it doesn't matter," Father Solomon clasped his hands behind his back. "Can't you see the devil in her eyes?"

The men pulled the stake to stand and began to toss large wooden logs around her hanging feet.

"Father Solomon! You can't do this! She needs a trial!"

He whipped around, "Are you insane? Look at her black robes! Look at her hair!"

"That—That…" Henry stuttered, "That doesn't prove anything! We need more evidence!"

"Henry! You wished to come with my company, did you not?" he eyed him dangerously, like a hawk to a mouse, exuding intimidation and authority. "You wished to serve holy justice, did you not? It's far too late to change your mind this time, boy. You didn't think that you could make it through this world and not get your hands dirty? I spent my life dedicating my life to this! You are either with us or you're against us!"

"But this—"

Solomon approached in strides, "You think it was going to be easy!? You thought that you wouldn't find blood on your hands? Find your courage, Henry…!"

Suddenly the boy was silenced, frightened and shocked by those words. Father Solomon eyed him dangerously before ordering his men to grab the torches and await his word. Henry felt choked. The woman wept upon the stake and tried to squirm to free herself! He needed to decide! Decide now!

"Father Solomon…"

Henry felt choked!

The holy man eyed him, "So, what will you do when you came face to face with the beast that murdered your bride!? Will you give it a trial!? Hmph! Your father was right about you, Henry. You are not a man…! You are a frightened boy! Sheep have more fight in them."

He approached him!

"Don't you dare talk about my father-!" he shouted sticking a finger in his face!

Solomon shoved a burning torch in his hands, "Then prove that you are brave, Henry…! You've got nothing to lose!" he placed his hand behind his back and they approached the stake. "Don't you see? Destroy this Witch, Henry."

Quivering, Henry looked at the burning torch. Sweat ran down his temples as he glared into the eyes of the holy man. Swallowing, he gazed up to the poor woman hanging upon the stake. Gagged and tied, she began to weep silently. Moaning into the cloth tucked into her mouth, her discolored eyes looked back into his begging him.

"If you don't destroy her many people will suffer. And I can't allow you to condemn people to suffer because you were too frightened to do what's right." Father Solomon gently placed his hand on his back and slowly guided him closer. So close that Henry's boots were inches away from the wooden logs.

"Prove your father wrong, Henry. Show your courage."

**Meanwhile**:

"There…" Cesaire pointed to a large stone building, lit from top to bottom.

Father and daughter were hiding in the shadows of the chimneys, looking down upon the small world of the city. The late night seemed to boom with an intoxicating urge to drink, dance, and sing. Already, the late night dance hall girls were prowling the streets seeking old, fat, wealthy men to lure into their shadowy rooms. The girls were neither young nor beautiful, but instead they were old, yapping hags desperately trying to obtain their youth with face paint and fancy bonnets. Their groggy and drunk employer stood close by smoking his tobacco pipe while flipping a silver coin with his thumb, watching his employees do their job. Supervising.

"I smell blood coming from the cellar. Follow me."

She could smell it, too. As fresh and as clear as burning smoke in the air! And it smelled delicious. Valerie followed her father across the planks of the roof. Careful to not make a sound and alarm anyone, she leapt from one chimney to another! Cesaire knelt down and pulled his daughter down to his level. They were looking through the yellow windows watching the drunkards and crooked constables associate themselves with friendly dance hall girls.

"Papa, I hear yelling…"

"So do I…" he responded, smiling. "This place isn't just a brothel; it's a fight club too. I can hear their war cries…"

"Fight club, Papa?"

"Yes, a place where human men come to fight each other and gamble and cheat on their wives. Some of these men fight to the death just to entertain its customers. It's just a foolish arena to prove strength and skill and feed their ego like jackals."

She bit her lip.

"What do they do with the bodies?"

Cesaire wiped his chin, "There's a man I know here by the name of Mr. Charles who runs this place. He's sort of the boss here. When I first came here a woman named April introduced me to him. This place is a quick way to make cash but dangerous place if you're not careful."

"But what did they do with the bodies Papa?"

"The woman named April, she worked here, and she told me that they dump the bodies into the river. You dump them into the river and you'll never find them again. Especially in the winter, because the ice would freeze over and you couldn't smell them for miles and miles! April knew everything here. She was a dance hall girl, too. All she wanted was to give her girls a better chance…"

She lowered her eyes.

"You had an affair with her?"

Cesaire shook his head, "No. She was an honest and kind woman. She had two girls sick with the measles and she needed the money to buy them medicine. So I volunteered."

"What did you do to help her?"

"I fought."

She shot him a look.

"You fought those men, Papa?"

"Yes. It was good money. I used that money to pay for our new home back in Middle class. It was also the money I used to help your mother back home. I repaid my debts and freed myself," Cesaire hugged her shoulder. "I never lost a fight."

Valerie looked at the window and thought about all those dance hall girls. There was no way to cushion the sins happening there. Cesaire looked at her displeasure and he gently kissed her temple, hugging her shoulders and softly rubbing her back.

"You won't ever have to experience those things, baby…" he hugged her. "Back in Daggorhorn, I know you would've never been happy being married to Henry Lazar. Those are 1 of the 100 reasons that I brought you out here."

"100 reasons, Papa?" she grinned.

"Yes." Cesaire knelt up and began to walk.

It was true.

If she thought about it carefully then she had the best father in the world. A good human father would think of 50 reasons to keep his little girl safe but a good wolf father would think of 100 reasons to keep his pup safe. Valerie hooked her arm in his and both began to enjoy the cool night air. She was very happy she had the best protector in the world. Gently she tugged on his arm and reminded him of her nauseous hunger building in her stomach.

"Yes, little one…" he whispered.

Without another word, Cesaire and Valerie dashed off in another race towards the outer walls of the city until they came to the edge of the neighborhood. Men dressed in black uniforms were patrolling the walls holding their swords while the two buglers quickly snuck through. Like two bats, they jumped through the air until they collided against the ground. They were outside now.

The trees and the black darkness became perfect. Their human bodies not in wolf form became wolf-like, using their eyes and ears as sharp tools. Cesaire, a good wolf father, guided his little girl to hunt a cottontail rabbit. His human hands touched the ground, scoping the feel and texture of the pebbles and green foliage.

She mimicked his actions. Soon before never, Valerie watched her father chase down the hoppity hare and claim his prize like a speeding banshee! His body moved like a well-oiled killing machine, perfected and built by years of knowledge and experience. He insisted that she watch him first.

All young werewolves watch their elders first before they actually hunt themselves. It helps them visually. Carefully, she ate the dead hare while her father proudly watched and waited as she finished her first wolf meal. Laughing, he wiped the blood from her face and proudly hugged her.

Her hunger had been satisfied and she no longer felt nauseated, her stomach feeling full and warm. As they made their journey through the rat maze of neighborhood and shops the sun began to peek up beyond the distance.

"I have to be at the baker, soon."

"And I have to return to the factory, too." Cesaire stopped and faced her and slipped his hand into his pocket. "Here are some shillings I earned at the factory. Why don't you and that Ivy friend treat yourselves to something special? Go to lunch somewhere, okay? You earned it. You completed your first hunt tonight." he kissed her forehead.

She beamed, "Aww, thank you, Papa!"

"I'll see you at the end of the day."

He kissed her forehead once more.

Valerie counted her shillings. When she looked up her father was gone. Vanished! Typical. He was always a master with disappearing. Rolling her eyes, she reentered her bedroom window and began to prepare for the day. By the time she was at the bakery, Ivy was already preparing the dough for Jacques.

"Charlotte! I'm so glad to see you!" Ivy smiled," Madam Alice disappeared again to see her lover."

"Of course she did!" Valerie smiled, mockingly. "Is there any other gossip I should know about?"

Ivy whispered, "Her husband has been coming to the bakery now. His name is Mr. Bufkin. He's looking for her! I say he's becoming suspicious now! The poor fellow has no clue she's running off! He came by yesterday twice!"

"You don't say?" Valerie gasped, covering her mouth.

"He's outside now."

"Now?"

"Yes! Now!" Ivy pouted. "I can't tell another lie to him! He's so in love with her! It's too tragic! Please would you go out there and talk to him?"

Valerie sighed, "I guess I could…"

Ivy beamed!

"Oh would you!? Thank you Charlotte!"

"Yes. Yes."

Valerie fixed her bonnet, wiped her hands on her apron and quickly attended the front desk. He was a fairly large man with a brunette hair shaped like a horseshoe trying to ease the tension in his shaky fingers. Already she could feel her compassion slip in. It was a picture perfect tragedy! Know she understood what Ivy was trying to say. The look on his face seemed forlorn and saddened. She smiled kindly at Mr. Bufkin.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, Mr. Bufkin. How do you do…?"

"N-Not too well. Not too well. W-Would you know where my wife is?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Your wife…?"

"Yes, M-M-Madame Alice."

"Oh, yes! I know her."

"Do you know where she went?"

Valerie quickly ran through her thoughts.

What to say!?

What to say!?

She gulped.

"Oh, yes! She just left this morning to deliver 5 pounds of bread to the upper class. She left an hour ago. She won't be back until later on this afternoon. She's making deliveries today."

"Oh…" he looked down to his feet. It was a look of defeat. "Well, w-would you give her a message for me?"

"Of course."

"T-Tell her that her h-husband is waiting…." His sad blue eyes looked back at her. "Tell her that I'm sorry and that I'll be home. Tell her I won't ever do it again."

"Yes, sir."

Valerie bit her lip. What was he sorry for? What did he do?

He stepped away, "T-Thank you. Thank you…"

Valerie smiled kindly at him while he left the bakery, shutting and ringing the little doorbell on the upper frame. That was more painful than she thought it would be. Seeing him so heartbroken pinched her.

That poor man.

All alone.

But what marital crime did he commit that would make his wife cheat on him? She shook her head. The mysteries this city held.

From behind her, she could hear Ivy and Jacques argue in a fit. Those two were like haughty siblings! But, before she could return to the kitchen, the doorbell rang on the upper frame. Another customer entered the bakery.

"Hello, princess!" a voice called.

Valerie, shaken, turned around.

"Richard?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

The Sheriff knelt down and touched the blood seeping from the wooden floorboards. It's cold. That means the crime happened hours ago. But that only lead to more questions than answers. The body, mangled and ripped to shreds, had become infested with purple and black spots. The face couldn't be recognized. So many things didn't make sense. Sherriff Williams stood and went to Location #2 and looked around inside the fishing boat and saw no other evidence to be found and collected. All he saw was a fishing rod, string, a bucket of wriggling pink worms and a dead body found on the bank of the river infested with pale maggots. His other officers were at the scene discussing who the victim could be in their own little circle. He knelt up and stepped next to the other constables.

"Poor bastard."

"I've never seen anything like this…"

"It… looks like an _animal_ did this."

The Sheriff wiped his face, "But what _kind_ of animal…?"

That was the question! Sheriff Williams looked at the side of the boat, etched and marked with claw marks. They were at least 9 inches long piercing into the wood like paper. Whatever attacked this poor fisherman was wild and angry. Maybe hungry.

"Have they identified the body yet?" the Sheriff demanded.

"No."

"Send the body to the city morgue and talk to Mr. Grim and see if he can perform an autopsy on him. We need to know what we're dealing with." Sheriff Williams demanded.

"What about the public?"

"Send someone to make an urgent announcement to the Mayor." The Sheriff stopped, and then restarted again. "No, no, no. I'll personally send the Mayor an message and let him know what happened here."

From inside the boat, a man in a black coat with a suit case full of flutes and jars approached the Sheriff. He was Williams personal assistant hired an hour ago.

"Did you find anything Mr. Henson?" the Sheriff asked.

"It's clean. I mean, it's filthy inside, but there's nothing I can find."

Sheriff Williams flinched in shock.

"No hair? No prints? Not even animal fur?"

"That's just it. I'm pretty sure an animal did this but I can't find any fur. There are no fingerprints and I can't find anything else that would suggest someone invaded the boat. The locks and windows haven't been touched or broken. It's bewildering," Mr. Henson wiped his bald forehead with his cloth. "But, I've never seen so much blood."

"Did you find any old fibers? Perhaps they were wearing gloves at the time the murder happened?"

"If there had been a struggle I would've found something."

Sheriff Williams pointed to his suitcase, "May I?"

Mr. Henson looked at his finger to his suitcase.

"Of course. Right this way."

The Sheriff looked around. They needed to be discreet about this information. Both men gradually walked to a brick wall and set the suitcase upon it and opened it. Mr. Henson slipped his gloves on and separated the jars and flutes from his bag to present them to the Sheriff.

"Here…" he lifted a flute.

The Sheriff looked into the tiny glass flute and saw a few drops of blood inside.

"Is this the blood of the…?"

"Yes, it's the blood of the victim. But here…" he lifted another flute. "This is very interesting."

"What is it?"

"Tobacco."

Sheriff Williams held up the tiny flute to the sun and indeed he saw a tiny pinch of dry tobacco inside. It was small but at least it was something. Whoever did this left a bread crumb trail.

"The big question is: did the victim or the murder smoke?" the Sheriff pondered out loud.

"I still need to investigate the rest but it'll take time."

"When you're done you can send my crew back. I'll need them when we go see Mr. Grim inside the morgue." He returned the tiny glass to him. "We never talked. If anyone asks what you found here you tell them it's under private investigation. You only talk to me! Do you understand? You only talk to me. No one else. Just me."

"Alright."

"Someone did _this_ to him and I'm not going to rest until I find him," he pointed to the mangled body being lifted onto a two-stick blanket carrier. "As long as the murder is on the loose you're my assistant from now on."

Sheriff Williams gave a hard pat on his shoulder and walked towards his awaiting black horse tied to a wooden post. Mr. Henson followed carrying his luggage under his arm.

"Send the _entire_ crew…?"

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

Sheriff Williams shrugged on his long black winter coat before climbing on his horse, "We've got a psychopath on our hands."

**Meanwhile**:

Valerie and Richard stood in the alley exit together. She looked in both directions, anxious that Madame Alice would discover them and scold her for out-of-marriage nonsense! But Richard insisted that they talk. He had been telling her about an upcoming show that would happen in 3 days and he would be happy if she could come see him perform. For the past few minutes she was trying to convince him that her father needed her back home and she didn't have any time to see puppet shows. But he became even more persistent! Just like the stubborn frog prince he was, he threatened to stay inside the bakery and order bread each and every day! Until she accepts his invitation of course! Running out of time and becoming more and more nervous, Valerie accepted! Running back to the door of the bakery she sent Richard a mocking glare before disappearing back inside.

"What happened out there?" Ivy asked wiping her hands.

"Stray dog."

**Meanwhile**:

Sheriff Williams followed Mr. Grim through the stone walls deeper and deeper into the catacombs where the fisherman's body lay on a stone bed. A little stream of blood dripped out of the stone table and into a small bowl upon the floor. He lit a single candle.

"What have you got?"

"Well…" Mr. Grim took off his spectacles, wiping the lenses. He pinched the bridge of his nose while pressing a thick rag to his mouth. The poor old man looked frazzled. "I-I-I've never seen anything like this…"

It smelled.

Bad.

Really bad.

"What's the damage?"

"Well you can obviously see the stomach has been torn open severing the right and left kidney here and there. You see that the spleen is missing and torn from its place. The heart is completely gone. But here, here, here, and here, everything is missing. The ribcages are completely broken and the intestines are completely… destroyed," he pointed with a small wooden stick, matching rhythm like a maestro.

"So there's no chance to find his roots? Wife? Brother? Family?"

"Well the face has been torn clean from the skull. The patches of hair are gone. The bleeding has stopped but the eyeballs are gone thanks to the crows. The only thing that I found that was intact was the spine."

Sheriff Williams circled the dead body. There had to be something he could find.

He pointed. "So there's nothing? No breadcrumbs I can follow?"

"Unless you can wake the dead you can't get new information."

He huffed.

He hated losing the scent of a killer. Especially when it came to his lifestyle and career which meant absolutely everything to him! He needed to show the citizens of the city that he could protect them and serve them justice. But if he couldn't find the scent then he'll look for other breadcrumbs to find. Punishing himself he sucked in his breath.

"Alright…" he closed his eyes shut. "Thank you for your time Mr. Grim."

He slipped on his gloves and gave him a sharp nod, hiding his disappointment.

"But if you need any more help…" Mr. Grim reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

He unfolded it. "There's someone I know who might give you what you're looking for. It's a little unorthodox but after what happened to this poor old man I can't take any chances…"

The Sheriff took the paper.

"Who is he?"

"_She_."

He raised a brow, "She? Who is this woman?"

The piece of paper had the numbers and name of a street address. It even had a name on it.

"She's the one who owns the fishing markets alongside the harbor. Her market is very famous for its delectable varieties and its reliable delivery service. She owns the biggest fishing workforce in the Middle Class…"

It was something!

Quickly, maybe too quickly, he returned to the man. Sheriff Williams began to hope again!

"Her name is Madame June and she's the one who negotiates with all the fisherman who come to her."

Sheriff Williams nodded, "Thank you."

**Later That Day**:

It had gotten dark and Valerie felt so exhausted that she could collapse on her bed and never move a muscle. She returned back to her house and quickly began to cook dinner for her father before he returned. It was a long day but she had to admit that she was excited to see Richard again. He made her feel…normal again. She began to cut the pork with a knife when she suddenly felt something ache in her mouth.

Biting her lip she ignored it but when the pain returned again… she couldn't ignore it anymore. Dropping the knife she ran to her room and quickly took out her mirror. Lighting a candle she stood in front of the mirror pulling back her bottom and upper lip to get a better look at her gums.

She gasped!

Valerie trembled as she examined her reddened gums. Little red roots spread across her gums beneath the soft pink flesh like a deathly virus. Slowly she poked it.

Moaning in pain she covered her mouth! The pain seemed to become aggressive! She slapped down the mirror and crawled to the corner of her bed with both hands covering her mouth. Is it possible that she has become a victim of the Black Death!? Oh no! What will she tell Papa? Once again the pain in her mouth tripled forcing her to spill drool from her bottom lip as she bent over and dry heaved, shutting her eyes tight!

"Gah!" she screamed, panicking and snatching the mirror.

She toppled down to the floor as the drool had been replaced with blood dripping into little pools on the floor. Dry heaving, she coughed and the pain in her teen became a little less intense. At last the pain stopped and her gums still looked dreadfully infected with a terrible virus which scared her!

Within the reflection of the mirror she slowly lifted her hand to her mouth. Her fingers pinched her gums. They felt numb now. The pain was gone and she felt relieved by this fact. But her fear only became worse when she tugged on her tooth.

Like slipping a flower from the soil the tooth came free.

As it separated, she trembled with fear! She hoped she was walking in a nightmare! Her eyes widened! The mirror shook in her trembling hand as she refused to believe this was happening! Panicking she pulled out another and another! More blood spilled from the holes in her gums and she could taste the thick iron taste on her tongue.

She wanted to scream! But she was in shock!

"P-P-P-Papa!" she cried! "Papa!"

Tears fell from her face.

"Papa!" she screamed louder!

More blood spilled from her lips.

Before she knew what had happened someone appeared before her very eyes like a breeze from the shadows. Catching her breathe, Valerie began to pant through her nose while her hand began to become soaked in blood. Two strong hands caught her trembling ones and he softly began to soothe her panic.

"Valerie!" her father choked.

"Papa I didn't know what to do!"

"What happened!?" he looked at her, inspecting her. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't know what was happening!" she lifted her teeth to him.

He looked at her mouth.

"What's happening to me, Papa!?" she cried. "What's happening to me!?"

"You're growing your wolf teeth, Valerie…" he quickly wrapped her in his arms, petting her hair. His arms could stretch around the world. "Your wolf teeth are coming out. Don't cry little one. Please don't cry."

"I didn't know what to do! I-I-I…" she choked, hiccupping.

Her hands gripped on his shirt.

"Shshshshshsh…." He soothed hugging her close and rocked her back and forth like a babe. "I know it hurts for the first while but it won't happen again, Valerie! I promise. I promise the bleeding will stop."

"But what about my teeth, Papa?" she lifted the poor things to him. "What do I do? What's happening!?"

He kissed her head. "Those are your human teeth, baby. Your wolf teeth will replace them. All young wolves go through this. There's nothing to fear…"

Rubbing her head against him, she felt his comfort take effect.

She hiccupped, "R-Really?"

"Yes. Yes." He kissed her head, petting her hair. "Even I experienced the same thing you're going through, little one. My father explained to me that I won't need my human teeth anymore. He told me that all young wolves must lose their human teeth. Slowly, day by day and step by step, your body will become stronger. Your human teeth are the first sign." He looked down at her, hugging her shoulders. "Valerie I am so, so, so sorry that I have not told you this before. I should have b-b-been a better father."

He choked on that last part.

Seeing his daughter in so much distress nearly made him—

Made him want to kill something!

But he was lucky it was only a wolf emergency than a dangerous emergency with anyone outside their pack. If anyone—absolutely anyone threatened his daughter then he would be the first to exact terrible vengeance.

No one hurt his baby cub.

No one.

"Papa…" she exhaled falling against him and enjoying his protective arms.

She tugged on his shirt and he petted her head just the way he did when she was a baby. She was beginning to relax and he could smell her exhaustion. Easily, Cesaire knelt up and placed his daughter on her bed like she weighed nothing at all and tucked her in. He lifted her blankets up and made sure she would be warm enough to dream sweet dreams tonight.

"Papa…"

"I know. I know…" he soothed. "It's scary… I know how you feel, little one. It's okay. It's okay."

"Hmm…" she sniffed.

"But I'm here now… okay?" he nuzzled her head softly. "I'm here. Papa's here. No one is going to hurt you."

She hiccupped again.

And if he hadn't been in such a panic he might've thought it was cute.

She might have been comforted but she didn't seem to be convinced.

"Hmm…" she hummed slipping into her slumber, exhausted from her panic. Her head spun.

Her blue eyes shut. Her heart rate slowed to an easy pace. Cesaire, the protective wolf father, nuzzled his cub and was sure the blood was cleaned and wiped away from the wooden floorboards. He didn't want her to see it in the morning, furthering her fear. He wiped the blood from her mouth softly and gently. Careful not to wake her up. He blew out the candle and pulled a chair to place by her bed and he watched her.

For the cold and silent hours of the night he watched.

Just watched.

Cesaire had to be there for his daughter if she had a nightmare or if she woken up in the middle of the night and had questions.

He had to be there for her to nuzzle her fears away.

It's what a wolf father does.

**The Next Day**:

Madame June held a cloth to her eyes, bawling and screaming. She heaved and she trembled in her seat as she clung to the shirt of the mangled victim found by the river. Her brunette hair had fallen over her face and she couldn't stop sobbing.

Her husband stood next to her gently holding her shoulders as she wept, trying to be strong for them both.

She couldn't believe her ears when she heard the terrible news.

"His name was Christopher! I knew him since he was a boy!" she cried, clinging to his shirt. "He was always a good boy!"

"We found him earlier this morning. His body was sent to the morgue. We haven't done anything with him since." Sheriff Williams sat in his chair weaving his fingers together.

She nodded looking at him.

"But, we believe this…" he slipped out the tobacco and he shifted his eyes. "We believe connects the victim to your… husband?"

The Sheriff eyed him. Trying to read him. Gulping her husband stepped forward giving his wife one last hand squeeze.

"C-Christopher always bought tobacco from me. H-He always smoked. The last time he purchased a pouch was last week after he sold his grandmothers silver. That's where the tobacco came from"

This information registered carefully in his mind as if trying to detect the smallest white lie in his confession. He never broke eye contact. Not even for a second.

Sheriff Williams nodded, "I see."

So her husband wasn't involved in the murder. He was crossed off the suspects list. But that didn't mean that he trusted the man.

"I just can't believe it!" she cried again.

The man scooted closer, "Do you have any clue what his social life was? Did he have any bad relationships that resulted in rivalry? Did anyone hate him? Give any reason they would hurt him?"

"No. No one."

"Do you have any reason he owed any debt to someone?"

"No."

"Any history of violence…?"

"No."

"Do you know who his family is?"

"Y-Yes…."

Sheriff Williams eyed her like a hawk.

"His mother is… Madame Alice," she sobbed and looked up at him with tears on her face. "S-She runs a bakery… A bread bakery. Oh my, she'll be devastated! She'll be absolutely devastated!"

"Would you happen to know where she lives?" he ignored her sorrow.

"No."

"Alright, then where is her bakery located?"

"It's in the Middle Class." She wiped her face. "She and her husband own it."

That was it.

"Thank you for your hot tea and all of your services. It was most appreciated! Madame June." he nodded at her. "Mr. Gables." He gave a quick smile to him and his wife and grabbed his cloak and hat and swept out the exit.

Mr. Henson, the poor shivering fellow, stood from the road curb and followed the Sheriff out the front gate while he quickly gave his condolences to the sensitive woman and her poor husband.

He followed pursuit of the blonde Sheriff and his head filled with questions. Before he saddled his horse he took out his own pipe, filled it with dry tobacco, and lit a match. He flicked the burning match away and puffed.

"What did you get?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Gables are crossed off my list but I need to send word to my officers. They'll need to guard them. Day and night. I need eyes on everyone." He puffed again.

"What are you going to do now?"

The orange burning little embers in his pipe burned bright with every inhale. His eyes focused on so many things at once. It was difficult to memorize so many faces and names all at once he thought his head might explode.

But yet, his mind became more free and clearer whenever he came close to discovering the truth.

The hidden truth.

Sheriff Williams pointed to the East. "We're going to visit another woman. Right now. She may know something about the victim."

"What's her name?"

"Madame Alice." He climbed on his horse.

Mr. Henson, without a horse, began to job beside him, "I see. May I ask what her relation is?"

"She is the mother," he inhaled. "Get on your horse. We're leaving now and soon Mr. Henson, my good fellow; you may witness my secret in slipping the truth from snakes."

"Snakes?"

"Yes! Even vipers have their weaknesses."

(A/N): Sorry I'm late. I know! I know! But all my updates come every Friday!

So coming up next: Valerie regrows her wolf teeth, Cesaire becomes more protective than ever, so how will she sneak off to see Richard's show? Sheriff Williams is on strict watch with all his suspects including Cesaire. Father Solomon is coming closer causing more mayhem while Henry is becoming confused between the difference between bravery and cruelty. Find out next Friday!

Bye!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

"Will my nose fall off and be replaced by a wolf nose, Papa?"

That made him laugh.

Cesaire poked her nose. "I'd rather have you keep your nose." He laughed again.

She laughed, too.

"My new teeth have replaced my human teeth, Papa." Her fingers poked in her mouth, completely relieved. "I found them this morning at dawn!" she beamed.

"Aww…" he smiled at her, petting her head.

He was happy that she was no longer afraid.

"See? No need to fret, now. It's over now. And absolutely no one will notice either. No one will recognize your new teeth except you. This is your new secret, little one."

Valerie could feel it, too. It was obviously evident. It was like awakening in a new skin and she was happy it was over.

When she clamped her new teeth together the strength in her jaws seemed to heighten with every stretch and yawn. Her jaws could outmatch the strength of a hungry crocodile! They were to become her new tool.

She was glad to have them!

"Will the other gifts be painful, too?"

"What do you mean?"

She lifted her hands and lifted her sleeves. "Will I grow new hands and new feet too Papa? Will my bones ache? Will my change become noticeable?" she shrunk beneath her blankets.

He scooted closer, "No. No. No. Your new gifts will come step by step as a flower sheds its cocoon. Then you will become…invincible." He petted her head softly. "Don't worry my little pup, soon you will be a mature wolf just like me and you will learn how to track, stalk, and prey on smaller animals. It'll happen in time, baby. In the meantime you can enjoy your first months as a pup. As my pup."

"Okay, papa!" she kissed his cheek, gathering her cloak and basket. "So I won't have to worry about anything at work today."

**Later That Day**:

"My name is Sheriff Williams and this is my assistant Mr. Henson and we're here to have a private discussion with Madame Alice and if you have any questions or concerns then I would like you to visit me in my office or send me a letter through mail regaring her whereabouts. But if you would be so kind as to direct me to your employer's office then that would be most gracious."

Valerie cemented her shocked and frightened face with a fake smile and she nodded to him.

"Of course, b-but Madame Alice is not here right now."

He glared.

"Do you know where she went?" He opened a small notebook from his jacket pocket.

Panicking, Valerie bit her lip because she couldn't lie to him as she did to Mr. Bufkin! She had no idea where she went! Suddenly Ivy came up to the counter and wiped her hands.

"Hello, may I help you?"

"U-Um, this is Sheriff Williams and he's here for Madame Alice."

Ivy gaped. "O-Oh, well I'm sure she'll be back. She wasn't here the day before neither. Or the day before."

"Do you have any idea where she went?"

Of course they did! She was with her lover, but they knew they would be punished if Madame Alice ever found out they gave that information to the Sheriff. Unable to slither from their own web of lies, Ivy and Valerie looked at each other.

"She might be with her husband, Mr. Bufkin."

"I can you give you their address."

Valerie scribbled down the numbers and gave it to the Sheriff's gloved hand before giving him a quick smile trying to cement her growing worries. The Sheriff, glaring at both of them, carefully analyzed the address before pouting his lips and pocketing it in his jacket. But he wasn't done yet. He shifted his weight as if it was habit while he weaved his fingers together. Valerie could smell suspicion and ambition on him like fleas on a watchdog.

"Would you have a clue as to why she would not be here? I mean," he looked all around. "This is her bakery after all. And just because the bakery can practically make its own money it still needs constant maintenance. It needs to be governed by the owner of course."

"We are very responsible when she is away." Valerie smiled.

"I'm sure you are." He whispered. "If she ever returns give her a message for me. Thank you ladies for your hospitality and generously sending my message." He turned to walk away.

"What happened?" Valerie blurted out. Ivy looked at her.

She couldn't stop it! Her paranoia grabbed a hold of her brain and she began fear the worst! Did something happen that had involved her father again!? Was someone killed? Did someone go missing!? Valerie shivered as she thought of Father Solomon walking the streets of the city looking for them.

"What is your name?"

"Charlotte." She whispered.

"Ivy."

"I'll be in touch." He smiled.

The doorbell clanked as he walked out.

**Later That Day**:

"Carlisle! Carlisle! Everyone! Outside! You all leave early!" Mr. Mavis shouted. "There is an important announcement! You all leave early!"

"What's happening?"

"Not sure."

"Why are we leaving early?"

"We never leave early."

Suddenly all the workers stopped their labor and walked outside to the courtyard to see what all the fuss was about. The evening sunset had a gloom to it and Cesaire could smell the nervousness Mr. Mavis had on his person. Something had happened. Something important. Walking out like cattle the men read the piece of parchment nailed to a wall. Cesaire squeezed by, pushing and shoving. He couldn't believe his eyes. He couldn't!

"No…" he whispered. "No. No. No. No. No."

Grabbing his pay and shoving past the herd of men and boys, Cesaire hit the street running. He looked at the sunset! Maybe it's still not too late! As he furthered down the street he witnessed his worst fear come to life! More constables were patrolling the streets holding their swords and crossbows, eyeing their citizens like mice. They walked together like chess pieces across the street and Cesaire camouflaged himself into the darkness, sneaking past their sight.

Unable to bury his fear, he ran to his apartment building and ran to their home! Speeding down the hallway he opened his door! His senses and fears all came to a slow beat as he saw his daughter Valerie standing in the middle of the room, waiting for him.

"Valerie."

"Papa."

He choked. "Y-You don't smell like blood."

"What's happening Papa?"

"After work I saw the announcement the Sheriff posted. A human fisherman was killed near the river bank early this morning." He pulled her into a gentle hug. "He claims… t-t-that a wild animal was the c-cause of it."

"Did you do it?"

"Did you do it?"

They asked each other simultaneously.

"What?"

"What?"

"I-I-It wasn't me, Papa."

Cesaire looked into her eyes and he saw truth in them. If she had become hungry then she would have the strength and capacity to kill something much larger than a woodland creature. He had feared she had tested her teeth on human flesh. But thank god he was wrong. Valerie felt the same thing too. She thought that her father had fallen back to his old ways and found a meal last night near the river. She hugged him back while he kissed her head.

"Madame Alice has gone missing."

"Alice? At the bakery? Where did she go?"

"She—She has a lover. That's where she might have gone. But she hasn't returned in 3 days and earlier this morning Sheriff Williams came—"

"The Sheriff!?" he growled.

"Yes, he came and told us to give her a message if she returned."

He snarled through his teeth. "But he did not… suspect?"

"No."

"He didn't ask you anything?"

"Only for my name."

"When you came home, did you have any reason to suspect that he followed you? Back here?" he looked all around, holding her tighter. "Maybe hiding outside our door?"

"No."

"Have you spoken about this with anyone else?"

"No. You are the first."

"Okay. You must speak of this to no one. Breathe not a word…"He kissed her head gently and he set her on her bed. Slapping the windows shut he paced around the room. "Things have to change around here, now."

"Like what?"

"You talk to absolutely no one outside this house. Shut all the windows and lock the doors when you return home. You must wear a different cloak every day. Put away your red cloak. Hide your scent and make no effort to help the Sheriff. You may see Ivy but do not talk to her about the murder. Stay low and out of sight from the constables." He peeked behind the window curtain. "We have to be careful now, Valerie. I feel we are no longer safe. If we didn't do it then _something_ else committed that murder. Tonight. Tonight I will investigate the river myself. I want to memorize the scent and track it myself and you'll wait for me right here!" He held her face with both hands and kissed her forehead.

"But—"

"Valerie, don't argue with me.

"Papa!" she pouted.

"You know that I love you very much, Valerie. Ever since you were a baby, I've held you and protected you. You are my treasure, you're all I have left. Now that we're far away from home and now that you're grown… I'll give up my last breathe to keep you safe from the world. Because the world is a dangerous place that fears us and hates us. They won't touch you. Ever." He petted her head. "You're my baby girl."

Valerie felt him kiss her forehead one last time before he disappeared out the window and into the darkness of the night. A breeze blew past signaling his shadowy disappearance. Her bedside candle blew out. Pulling her knees up to her chest Valerie thought of ways that she could help her father but she felt useless because she was not as experienced as he was. He was a mature wolf and she was just a pup. Besides, if he could defeat an entire Wolf Hunting Army then he could endure anything!

She was relieved, but not convinced.

**Meanwhile**:

"He was a very quiet man. He never really spoke to anybody unless he needed to. I remember when he would come to work late and I would dock him a few shillings. Since he wasn't able to find work here, he became a fisherman like his uncle."

"So he didn't quite socialize with anyone here. He didn't go to the pub and bottle a few down?" Sheriff Williams listened to the man intently.

Whipping his pocket watch from his sleeve, he checked the time. Nearly a quarter past 6 and he could already feel the icy chill of the evening roll onto his chin.

Mr. Mavis shook his head, "No."

That's what he thought. Sheriff Williams couldn't bare the idea of hitting a dead end. Time was running out and he had to report to the Mayor in the morning.

"Can I have a look at your black books?"

"What for?" Mr. Mavis raised a brow.

"I need to look at the records of every single worker here. It might help me delve a little deeper into his social life and pave the way to his personal life." Sheriff Williams slipped his gloves off and walked through the lengthy aisles. "Would you have any reason to believe that he was a foreigner? An alien to the city?"

"What do you mean?"

The Sheriff paced, "Was he born in the city? Or outside the city? Usually, most of our suspects are immigrants coming far from the country to find work. For this case I must investigate both sides."

"I understand…" Mr. Mavis led the way to his office and pulled out volumes and volumes of books.

The Sheriff smirked. He had been hoping to see this. Walking forward Mr. Mavis gave him the books and he pointed to the marked dates on the spine written in inked pen. All of his employees were in those books. When they worked and when they didn't. What time their shift ended and what time their shift begun. But there were no addresses. Williams gave him a firm nod.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Mavis. I will return these to you to your earliest convenience."

"You're welcome!" he smiled. "But will I receive news about this, too?"

"You can read it in the papers, I assure you." Williams smiled.

Mr. Mavis bit his lip. "Wait."

Sheriff paused in his step, turning his head over his shoulder and he could see Mr. Mavis choke on his word. Like a hound catching the smell of a fox, Williams came face to face with the smaller man. Reading his eyes, he suspected their conversation was not over.

"Yes?"

Mr. Mavis looked behind Williams. Catching onto his play, Williams excused his standing constables. He moved them into his office where they would talk privately. Mr. Mavis lit a candle and sat on his chair taking out a bottle of rum and two glass cups.

"May I?"

"Yes, of course…"

He poured them a drink.

"Does this have to do anything with illegal smuggling, too?"

"What do you mean?"

Mr. Mavis scooted closer, "With my employees I mean."

"Do you have your suspicions?"

"Well…"

Williams firmed his jaw. "I need all the information I can get in this case, Mr. Mavis. Anything you keep from you can backfire upon you in the future, I assure you." He stepped forward slowly. "Is there anything you are keeping behind those closed doors, Mr. Mavis?"

The man was nearly sweating and the Sheriff gave him no room to squirm.

Mr. Mavis sighed. "There is… one employee of mine that I suspect of smuggling."

"Smuggling what?"

"I don't know."

"So why would you be suspicious of him?"

"He's just… an odd fellow who never really fit in like the rest."

"I see. Tell me more."

"You see the rest of my employees live in the lower class. I know all of them like I know my own sons. But you see, this fellow lives comfortably in middle class."

"Yes. And that concerns you?"

"It's just…"

"Mr. Mavis…" Williams pinched the bridge of his nose. "If this is about being concerned with your own welfare then I cannot help you."

"No. No, it's not that. He returned almost a month ago. He's new here. Well, actually he was here a couple months ago."

"So he returned?"

"Yes."

"What's his name?"

"Cesaire."

(A/N): I know! I know! I'm a day late but here it is! Hope you guys enjoy! Review! Show the love! Thanks! :)

Next Time: Valerie helps Ivy with her pregnancy, April begs Cesaire for his help, Sheriff Williams is now stalking our favorite wolf family and Henry and Solomon are somewhere out there looking for them! What will happen!? Who knows! Tune in next Friday!


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